Just One More Night of Flesh
by bulletproofsince1999
Summary: Sherlock and John are seniors at Saint Bart's high School, and encounter things that lead to angst and jealousy. But in the end it will be happy, I promise. Rated M for Sex, language and violence... Sorry. But do Enjoy!
1. New

**The title sounds kinky because the story will get there. But for now, it's just some fluffiness.**

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Just One More of Flesh: New

Sherlock woke that morning, excited for his first day of school. But not because it was the start of a new year, but because it was a new school, and he wondered if people might except him here. He had heard that London was full a snotty prats, but he didn't want to believe such rumors.

So he dressed hurriedly for his first day of his senior year. _Besides_, he thought_, even if they are assholes, I've only got one year left anyway._

Then he thought about how young he was compare to the other seniors. He was only seventeen while they're all eighteen and some even nineteen. But he didn't care anymore. He rushed down the many stairs he had counted as thirty two, and met Mycroft in the kitchen with Mum.

"Hi, Mum," he greeted her with a kiss to the cheek, "Mike," he simply nodded. Mycroft hated that nickname, but his mother told him that if he didn't appreciate his little brother she would smack him for all he was worth. Sherlock appreciated his older brother, but not as much he wanted to.

Let me elaborate, when Sherlock asks for help, (which he rarely ever does in the first place), Mycroft always taught him in ways that made it even more confusing. And then the twenty year old ass would say it's simple and leave Sherlock to figure it out on his own anyway.

So yeah, Sherlock appreciated his talents, but he hated his attitude. People even called him the "Iceman" because he never showed any fucking emotions. Sherlock shook his head once as a breakfast was pushed in front of him.

He was about to protest when his mother hit on the top of the head with her spoon, "You eat or I'll shove it down your gullet." She was only worried for Sherlock. She hadn't seen him eat since they left Bristol to come to London.

Then again, so much had happened to Sherlock in Bristol, why should he be happy to move? Even though, Sherlock was happy to leave. Too many memories were there. Like Gregory and Molly, his two best friends. Then there was Irene, the woman who played with his emotions, and Jim, the man who had turned him.

He hated both of them. He missed Greg and Molly, but he was happy to be rid of Irene and James. Irene was the reason he displayed no emotion. Molly had been worried for Sherlock, but Greg knew what had happened and hadn't questioned a thing.

Then there was Jim. He claimed he cared so much, but he didn't. Him and Irene had stolen Sherlock heart and broke it into pieces that he was only just now, two years later, picking up. But for those two years, he had become 'heartless' and people started hating him. Even Molly gave up. Greg tried, but couldn't get Sherlock back to himself.

You see, Sherlock was known as the 'brainiac' and 'the coolest fucking kid you'll run into', but before he left, he became 'the kid you don't talk to unless you want punched in the throat'. But he was going to change this. He was going to be the best in his class and he was going to meet someone who was going to help change him back into the person he wanted to be. Or at least he could hope, right?

Sherlock finished his breakfast and kissed him mum goodbye as he ran out to the sidewalk in front of their home (grabbing his backpack before he forgot it like the last time), and off the left, was a little glass bust stop. He was glad they had lived so close, or he would have missed the bus that morning.

Except, he hated that he was the second to last stop and there was only one seat that didn't have anyone in it, and it was near the front. Sherlock sighed and sat four seats from the bus driver. She was an interesting person to study.

Oh, I forgot to mention that people used to pay him to deduce things about them. And if he was wrong, they wouldn't pay him at all. But if he was right, they'd fork over whatever and the lowest he was ever paid was five pounds, it was awesome and people actually gladly talked to him. And he was rarely wrong, so he gladly talked to anyone.

As said before, when those two years hit, everyone left him alone. He wasn't talked to, not even in Biology, which was his best class and people used to ask if they would tutor them. But after those two ripped him into pieces, he talked to no one.

Yeah, there the occasional talk with Molly or Greg, but he never talked about himself. He didn't want to be reminded that the people he had loved most hated him. And upon thinking about his past, he hadn't noticed the boy with the blond hair sit beside him, seeing as it was the only spot left. He was glad this was the last stop then.

The blond looked at the mysterious brooding burnet, and noticed that he had never seen him before. And over the small chatter, he asked, "Are you new this year?"

The brooding arse jumped and looked to the blond beside him, "Um, yeah. Why?" he looked back out the window at the streets flying by.

"Just wondering. I haven't seen you around. Hey, what's your name?" he suddenly asked.

Sherlock twitched. This boy was too nice to him, "Sherlock. Yours?" he eyed the boy.

He smiled warmly, "John," and Sherlock saw no flaws. He saw nothing that indicated that his John kid would stab him in the back later. He only saw kindness buried into those lovely blue eyes.

Sherlock bluish grey eyes darted all around the boy as he made his deductions, and decided that maybe he could trust the boy in the jeans and a flannel that was covered by a jumper.

John could feel Sherlock studying him, "So, where'd you live before here?" there he was again with seeming to be too kind to the burnet.

"Bristol. I'm sorry, but why are you bothering me, John?" he didn't mean to be so rude. "Oh," he saw the look on John's face, "Sorry, I just…" John seemed to soften his features from the anger, "I'm not used to having someone who isn't being rude to me." and wasn't that the truth?

John nodded, "It's okay. Besides, anyone who doesn't think you're amazing is an idiot," John said suddenly. Even he was surprised he had said such a thing. What was that? He doesn't even know this kid except for his name!

"You- you think so?" Sherlock stuttered. "Usually people meet me and they automatically hate me," he said.

"Why is that?" John asked, swinging his feet under the seat and putting his hands to the edge, examining Sherlock's face under the curls in which he tried to hide.

"Because I deduce things that they don't like to hear," he admitted. Why hadn't he done that to John yet? He didn't know. He felt as though he wanted to befriend John. See? Not everyone in London is an ass.

"Deduce?" John laughed, confused.

"Yes, like the fact that your father was in the Army when he died a year ago. And your mother has been struggling to care for you and your sister ever since. But recently your sister became a drunk and your mother kicked her out, go moms, right? Anyway," he wanted to continue, but the look on John's face confused him. He was sad that his father was brought up, but seemed overjoyed.

Sherlock exhaled the huge breath he had taken in as John had thrown his hands in the air, "Brilliant!" what?!

"That's not what people usually say," he hid the surprised look and was still confused. How could someone even confuse him? He didn't know, there was something about John that made him suddenly interested.

"What do they usually say?" John asked, still smiling.

"Piss off," and they both laughed at that one. Sherlock found a friend, and little did he know, this would be his only, but very close friend. But that's for another chapter… : )

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**Please read and review? And any suggestions are welcome. :-) **


	2. Intriguing

Just One More Night of Flesh: Intriguing

John was interested in the man beside him. He wondered where he got the deduction skills from, and why he was hated for it. He also examined his style, and he had to say, if he was a girl, he would swoon. If he was a girl… anyway.

From top to bottom: Black beanie covering his brown almost black curls, a sleeveless band shirt that said, "Bring Me The Horizon", black skinny jeans and it was completed with Converse and a black Jansport backpack. And when he stood to get off the bus, John could see his IPod sticking out of his back pocket. Not that he had been staring at his ass the whole time! Even though it was nice, John had to admit… _stop it!_

When they got into the school and girls were already staring as they walked down the hall, What kind of music do you listen to?" he had to ask. If there was Bring Me The Horizon on his shirt, there had to be more awesomeness on his IPod.

John slipped his hands in his pockets as Sherlock said, "Mm, I'd say a little bit of everything. Except for boy bands and pop. And most rap. I like some, like Linkin Park, but most others are crap. Drugs and sex and bullshit. Why? What about you?"

"Same, actually," Sherlock blinked a few times at that.

"Really?" he didn't look the part. Although, Sherlock dressed like this because he liked to. He didn't give a fuck what other people said about his style, he only cared that he was comfortable and or looked good to himself.

"Yes. I know, I don't look like it, but I like that kind of thing. The more modern people don't feel me. They have fucking orgies and get drunk every day. I'm sorry but how is that relatable?" he asked the rhetorical question.

But Sherlock answered, "I don't think it is. They think they have, what the hell was that one word that they keep using, oh 'swag'. I'm like, "Yeah, you have a swagger, because you're fucking gay,'" they laughed because John understood what he meant.

"Nice," he high-fived the tall burnet. "Dude," he brushed up against his shoulder and looked around, then said quietly, "Look at all the chics staring at you," John waggled his eyebrows and they laughed.

Sherlock would never go out with any of them, but it was funny to watch them stare. Most of the boys here weren't dressed like this. But Sherlock defied all the laws of being a bad boy. Well, except for his attitude towards John when they first met.

But that was it, he seemed to be so nice after that. But John was sure that anyone else who would greet him, would probably get the same comment he was given. But oh well, at least John's stubbornness was worth it in the end.

John took Sherlock to the front office where they asked for the schedules for the both of them. they asked the last names and John said, "Watson," and he said it with pride. _So, proud of his father then. Good to know… _Sherlock couldn't stop studying John.

They were handed papers with words in rows and Sherlock read them off to be almost the exact same as John's. Except John didn't have the same English class with Sherlock. But that was because Sherlock had an AP English class. He exceeded when it came to writing. He could write anything, professional or not.

John was delighted to have classes with Sherlock. It meant that he could show Sherlock around and neither one of them would be late for class. Well, except for maybe the last one, but those two classes were in the same hall, so it should be fine. Even so, he would gladly be late for Sherlock.

John and Sherlock headed to their first class, which was Biology with Professor Moran. And he may have looked menacing, but he was actually really cool as a science teacher. At least Sherlock and John thought so.

Sherlock could see that John was interested in the human body, and deduced that he might be a doctor. He even asked John about it and John replied, "Jesus! You really like deducing things, don't you?" he teased.

Sherlock had smiled and turned his attention back to the white board being written on in black marker. Then he heard the girl next to him sigh in frustration. And when he looked over, he was surprised at how beautiful she was. Her hair was cut short to her ears, but she looked amazing in it.

She had a butterfly pin in it to keep her bangs from her face and she was wearing jeans and had headphones hanging from her neck, and the cord was laying over a blouse that she obviously hated and she was wearing heeled boots that reached her ankles.

She was dressed to impress and she was gorgeous. Sherlock listened to the teacher, but stared at this woman. She looked eighteen, while John was nineteen. Sherlock wondered why he was finding people older than him only.

But she caught him staring and smiled, "Hi," she whispered and waved.

He blushed and waggled his fingers and took to taking down more notes before the professor wiped the board clean. He had to ask, "What's your name?"

"Mary Morstan," she smirked. He was surprised out the fact that she was the only girl that wasn't swooning over him. He liked that, and said as much. "No offense, but I don't take one look at someone and fall head over heels in love with their looks. Although I have to say, those cheekbones make you very attractive," she winked.

"I'm Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes. Nice to meet you Mary. I didn't think I would meet anyone else, besides John, who could be nice." Sherlock was letting his affections get in the way again, and he shoved them down his throat with a swallow.

She looked to where the burnet was pointing, "Oh yes. He's adorable and kind."

"So," John whispered, "I see you've met Mary," he smiled. But he was obviously jealous. Oh, John likes her, too. _In that case, have her. I don't want to intrude. _

Sherlock then simply nodded, "Yes." And they all looked back to the front of the room where the professor gave them a look, but they were paying attention again and got no further looks from then on.

That class was interesting, not only the class but the person he met. He liked her already. He asked John about her, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?" he asked.

"Yeah, but she has her eyes set elsewhere," John sounded disappointed.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock had asked.

"Well, she likes this other guy. His name is Sebastian. He's not ugly, but he's not hot either. But she sees something in him. I don't know what but-"

Sherlock cut him off, "Are you bisexual?"

"What?! No! maybe, I don't know. Just shush. You're the only who's ever asked and so you're the only to know. Now shut up," John seemed irritated that Sherlock had brought up such a thing. But John had described Sebastian as 'not ugly, but not hot' and that just made it sound as if he liked guys, too. Because it was obvious he liked Mary.

But Sherlock settled with, "Just wondering," he wondered sometimes if he was, too. The whole thing with Jim. And Sherlock tried to say that it was just him, but he had felt a little attracted to Greg as well. But that, he will never admit to anyone.

So there they were in their next class, which was taught by a Mrs. Hudson. She seemed interesting enough, and she cared for every student as if they were her own children. Could that be because she has none of her own? Possibly.

But Sherlock liked her as Health teacher. So did John, supposedly she does middle school Health as well. Saint Bart's High School was a joint school, of middle and high schoolers. Sherlock didn't particularly like the little kids, but who does? That was just his opinion, though. Because John loved small children. He got along with them well, and he one day wanted kids of his own.

Anyway, he had two other classes before lunch and they weren't terribly interesting, but they were only band and art. Sherlock was pretty good with the violin and John was a hell of a flutist. He blushed when Sherlock commented on it, and he said he wished he was talented enough to play the violin or the piano.

Sherlock could play both, but that was because once you learn one instrument, you can play ones that are terribly similar. Sherlock could even play the guitar. He liked the acoustic, despite his preferences in music.

But lunch was the interesting part, because the people he met there made him laugh even harder when they made themselves look so stupid… : )

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**You can only guess who he's going to meet. Haha. Who else does he think is stupid? Anyway, I'll leave you to your deductions. R&R, please? Any suggestions?**


	3. Stupidity

Just One More Night of Flesh: Stupidity

Sherlock and John munching on the burgers they handed out to the high school students, as Mary walked up to John and stole one of his fries. He smiled as she sat beside him, she had a salad, which didn't surprise Sherlock.

She was already skinny, and despite her personality, she was really vain. But the rest of her was nice. Fantastic even. She looked to Sherlock and smiled, "So, you like science?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded, "Especially the science of deduction. And by the way, may I say that you were really fun to deduce, Mary?"

She looked confused, as John did when he first met the sleuth. "Deduce?" she had asked.

Sherlock smirked as John waited for amazing words to spill from his mouth. He cleared his throat, "Well, I know that despite your personality, you're really vain. You're smart, but science confuses you. You're good with a gun, and you defy your parents to go shooting when your emotions get out of whack. And you like a man in a suit that looks expensive. Then there's the random fact that you're good with electronics," he figured the other deduction was the reason she liked Sebastian.

She was dumbfounded as she struggled, "That was…"

"Fantastic?!" John finished for her. she smiled, but in her eyes, she was hiding something and she started questioning Sherlock's abilities with secrets. _Don't worry, when I find out your secret, I won't share, _Sherlock thought.

He wanted to know what she was hiding, but she turned to John, "And he's new?"

John nodded, "Right?! He's a fucking genius." John's eyes wandered and he took in the scene that was Sherlock. He felt suddenly not so jealous that he likes Mary. It was obvious that he does. But when John's eyes went back to Mary, Sherlock's left her and examined John once again.

He couldn't stop looking at him for some reason. John really interested Sherlock, and vice versa, they just won't ever admit it to anyone but themselves.

Then this very ugly burnet man walked up to John and flicked the back of his neck, "Hey faggot," he teased. He didn't know, but Sherlock could tell he called anyone he hated that.

"Hi, Anderson," he sighed. Sherlock deduced this Anderson character. Mary was glaring at him as he teased John more.

"Who's this?" he pointed at Sherlock, "Your boyfriend?" _And if he was?_ John couldn't help but think that. Then he pushed it out of his mind.

Instead, he focused on the swelling anger he felt from Anderson. He choked it down, "No, but he has a few things to say about you, don't you, Sherlock?" John begged him to deduce Anderson and make him leave John alone.

"Mm. Quite a lot. Like the fact that you only call him a faggot because you disapprove of yourself, and your father hates you for it." They all knew what he was thinking about and John started blushing as he hid a smile, "And you shouldn't even be here. You're too young for senior year, but you're not smart, no. You cheated and here you are. I suspect that you sat by someone smart when you took the state exam?" Anderson was angry while Sherlock continued even further, "Your mother is dead and your brother hates you. Your father is a drunk and-"

He was cut off by Anderson yelling at him to shut up, and he walked off, pissed. They all looked to each other and laughed their asses off. John had never seen Anderson so pissed in forever. Mary liked Sherlock even more now, but was still cautious with him. _No one can know… ever. _

And John praised him after that. Anderson had always been picking on John and the other nerds that were proud to announce that they weren't stupid jocks. That they actually had amazing grades and they were going to get somewhere in life.

Sherlock loved John's laugh. John also loved Sherlock's. Then they were caught in each other's eyes and Sherlock stared into those blue things that were so lovely he almost had butterflies in his stomach. But Sherlock's eyes were swirled together and they looked deep into John and he felt something in his chest stir.

But they disconnected as the bell rang and they went to their last four classes. Which were Gym, Mathematics, Tech and English. But the very last one they had separately. John failed in Gym, but Sherlock was amazing at football and he showed off with it.

John was jealous, and he didn't let it show, but Sherlock could see it in his eyes. Then there was Maths, and John and Sherlock had battled it out with the homework and the teacher was impressed. But the teacher interested Sherlock.

He was professor Magnussen. He was a great teacher, but a little harsh. But he seemed to like Sherlock and John. Sherlock liked him because he was a Maths teacher, but he was pretty dull other than that. Although, he seemed to have a way with computers…

John was amazing with computers. Not the best, but not fucking horrible. Although Mary over there seemed to be the best at it. Sherlock was moderate and didn't really care much.

Then there was English. Where Sherlock finally met Sebastian. And now he knew why Mary liked him. As well as dressing in a suit every fucking day, he was a poet, and quite good at it. But when Sebastian revealed something Sherlock found Mary's liking to him hilarious.

Sebastian was bisexual and he seemed to have in interest in Sherlock, and guys like him. "The girls here," he had said, "are boring. They need to be more comfortable with themselves, instead of trying to alter themselves as much as possible."

"What about Mary?" Sherlock asked him.

"She's cool, but she's not my type. Besides, she's like a sister to me, and it'd be creepy to date your sister, just saying." Sherlock understood. And he also started to like Sebastian. Not _like _like, but like you know, as in a good friend.

Although, he can tell he won't hang out with him as much. _But just to make him feel special_, "I'm questioning whether I like guys or not. Sh, I've never told another soul," he whispered to the man beside him.

Then the class was over and Sherlock took the same seat on the bus he had before. It wasn't bad and people won't bug him. Well, there was John, but he wasn't annoying. He was so much better than anyone else. He admitted he liked John way more than Sebastian and Mary. And definitely more than Anderson. But anyone would like anyone else over Anderson.

John flopped down beside him and his bag slid to the floor as Sherlock had pulled out his IPhone, (John had corrected himself), and began to fiddle with the what music he wanted to listen to. He decided since he was wearing it, he would listen to Bring Me The Horizon.

"Can I?" John asked, pointing at the cord hanging from Sherlock's ear. Sherlock smiled and handed him one of the earbuds. John grinned as this was his favorite song by them. "Can you feel my heart!" John wanted to sing with it, but he didn't.

Sherlock was satisfied when John was sort of rocking out to this. And since he had it on shuffle, it went to a random song. It was by Story of the Year, and Sherlock hadn't heard it in forever. He couldn't even remember the name as he pulled the phone from his pocket.

Ah, that was it, Anthem of Our Dying Day. He loved this and when he heard John humming, "Wanna start over and we can sing it together?" he offered.

John's eyes sparkled, "Yes! Er, um, sure…" he blushed slightly. No one else would have caught it, but Sherlock did. He smiled and restarted it.

As the lyrics folded out over their ears, and John and Sherlock's voices matched them, they started getting butterflies. _John's voice. Wow, I never knew someone could give me this feeling…_

_Damn, Sherlock. I never knew you had it in you to sing like that. It's fucking hawt… wait, what?! No, yes. Maybe… _He eyed the singing burnet and Sherlock returned the stare. That was when they reached the climax of the song and they leaned into one another, John's hand almost landing on Sherlock's. he cursed at himself for doing that.

When it ended they fell silent and heard someone behind them clapping. What the fuck? They leaned over the seat and looked behind them to find two little girls clapping at them. "What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, dumbfounded.

"We really like your singing," sixth graders. And one screamed when they saw how attractive the two were, "Are you guys in a band?" the other asked.

Sherlock chuckled against John neck and John answered, "No. But he should be," he nodded at Sherlock.

He blushed, "No, you should. Hey, I've got it, we can enter the talent show together!" he had seen the poster somewhere around the halls of the school. It was the back to school talent show, in September.

John nodded, and they leaned back in their own seat, "Maybe. Depends on my mum's decision about it," but he would probably beg her to sign up for it anyway.

He had his heart set on it, and he was going to do the flute, but singing with Sherlock sounded better. "We can do a different song if you like," Sherlock offered.

"No, actually, I think I want to do the one we just did. It'll be fun," he assured the taller man. Sherlock nodded and they finally paid attention to the song playing. It was Red, Not Alone… and as the lyrics spilled over them, they felt it described their feelings now.

Sherlock smiled and said goodbye when he had to leave. John glanced at the phone in his pocket, and Sherlock could see him in the mirror checking him out, _Questioning, my ass. Haha, literally. _

But Sherlock felt weird now, because as he walked through the door, he was beginning to feel a small crush on John grow… _Dammit…_ : )

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**So there you have it. He met Anderson... and now he thinks he likes John, but how will his family react? Haha, reviews?**


	4. Explanations

Just One More Night of Flesh: Explanations

Sherlock walked through the door to meet with his brother in his chair, on his phone and his mother in the kitchen, she was always there. Sherlock had no idea why, but she was either in the kitchen or in the living room on the couch, watching crap telly.

Ever since Dad left, she's been lonely. But he'll be back, eventually. Sometime in September, he had said. Sherlock could remember now as he marched up to his room, he had said the fifth of September. Which was funny because he could he now remember that that was the day of the talent show.

Then an idea popped in his head and he threw his bag to the floor and rushed to meet his mum in the kitchen. He looked at the clock, 4:00. He greeted her with a kiss to the cheek, "Mum, I just came up with the best idea ever!" he exclaimed.

Then he settled and sat in one of the kitchen chairs and looked up at them jade eyed woman asking for an explanation, "John and I decided to do the talent show, and if I sign up, I get to sing the day Daddy comes back. Can I? Mum, please!" he leaned on the edge of the chair and begged.

She smiled and flipped her auburn hair from her tired eyes, "I guess that would be nice. I'll call him tonight and you can tell him," she chuckled as he punched the air and ran up to his room to get to his homework.

* * *

John walked through the door and greeted his mother, who was sitting in her chair, knitting something. She never had said what it was. But she greeted her son and didn't look up, her brown eyes glued to the needle, "John, dear. You're home! Why don't you make yourself something to eat and do your homework?" she finally looked up to her blond son.

He nodded, "Yes, Mother," he kissed her on the cheek. She smiled as he walked out to the kitchen and grabbed things to make a sandwich, and declared that after he ate, he would ask about the talent show.

And when he did, "Oh, John! Of course you can! I'll be there, when and what time?" she actually seemed happy that he was getting socially involved. Finally. After his father, he kind of became a turtle and the only one he would talk to was Mary. And even then sometimes, he didn't.

So when he told her, "September fifth, at 2:00. So that they can fit everyone in, and still let the students get home on time," he explained.

She moved from her chair and her blond hair fell over John's shoulder as she hugged him, "This will be good for you. and you said something about a Sherlock?" she asked.

"Oh, Sherlock. Yes," he started, "He was the one that said I should sing with him. We're doing a song that both of us know and are very…" he went back to the bus and that voice. He shook his head, "…familiar with," he smiled.

She grinned, "You like him."

"Well, yeah. He's a good friend. But…" John started.

"No, John. I mean you _like_ him. Don't worry, I don't mind. But he can't stay the night here," she pretended to scold him. "I'm just kidding," she hugged him again, "Oh! This is the best thing I've heard from you since… then," she looked from the floor back to him and smiled again.

"This is the _most _I've heard from you in a long time. It's nice. We should stay like this." He turned and was about to walk up to his room when he got another nice idea, "Mom?" she hummed she was listening as she sat again, "What if I make dinner tomorrow and invite Sherlock over? You can meet him, like you did Mary," he suggested.

She smiled even brighter, "That would be nice," she approved?! Yes, John danced up to his room and started his homework with happiness in his writing.

* * *

"The talent show?" Mycroft sneered as Sherlock stripped beanie and threw it on the bed. He looked back at the figure invading his privacy and leaning in the doorway. "Yes, is there a problem with that? It's a surprise for Father, (and he agreed to meet us at the school)," he was still giddy about that, "now if you don't mind, I would like to take a shower and get to bed. I have school," he complained.

"There's nothing wrong with singing, but it's that boy you mentioned. John, I have a feeling that you like him more than you're letting on," Mycroft explained.

Sherlock shook his curls as he stripped his shoes, "You're an idiot," he spat. He grabbed his pajamas and walked to the bathroom down the hall and slammed the door before Mycroft could speak again.

The eldest heard the water running and gave up. _I hope he knows that the family might approve, but the rest of the world won't. Be careful, dearest brother… _Mycroft couldn't help but think that Sherlock was at least bisexual.

He had never had sex before, but he sure as hell was interested in that Jim character. But there was Irene that had stopped Mycroft from thinking he was gay. He sighed and stomped back down to the living room. He sat in his chair and thought about this.

He hopes Sherlock will see it soon.

* * *

Sherlock saw it alright. He just didn't want to admit it. After what happened with James, he couldn't be interested in John. John was too kind. Sherlock couldn't find a dark side, but he was sure there was something that would kick him in the ass later on.

Or maybe, it was the fact that Sherlock had seen this kind of thing happen in families before. Where one admits they're gay or bi and the whole family goes crazy. Sherlock was especially afraid of what his father might say.

That's it! The dinner after the talent show (in a month, literally), he would ask how his father felt about LGBT people and that would determine whether his father was told or not. His mother on the other hand, she probably already knows.

That was where Sherlock got his deduction skills from. His mother wasn't as good anymore, but she was still good enough to read emotions well. She may be forty, but she wasn't stupid. So when Sherlock does ask, she'll know for sure.

Sherlock sighed, _I really hope this glosses over well and no one bothers me with it… _but he knew someone would pick on him for it. He laughed as he thought about what he had deduced about Anderson. He knew some people had heard that, and were probably picking on him with it already.

* * *

John's homework was done and it was ten. He was done, he was tired and he wanted sleep. He decided he would take a shower in the morning. If he wasn't late in the morning. Although, he rarely was. Actually, usually he was up for two hours before the bus ever came by.

He decided he was good and he stripped and replaced his clothing with sleepwear and he wriggled into the covers and fell fast asleep.

Line Break

Mycroft stood outside the door as Sherlock tried to get him to leave him alone so he could fucking sleep. "Mycroft!" their mother scolded him. Sherlock rose his eyebrows at Mike. He glared and stalked off to his own room.

Sherlock's mum walked in and tucked him under the covers and kissed him on the forehead. He felt embarrassed that his mother tucked him in, but he relished the moment with his forlorn mother, "Good night, Sherlock. Sweet dreams," she said.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her neck, "Night, Mum," he smiled and she flicked the light off and he settled as the door clicked shut. But he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about John and Mary. He really liked Mary, but he _really_ liked john.

Well, Mary likes someone else, so… guess that leaves John. But Sherlock didn't want to admit that he was crushing on a guy. He thought that was wrong. But the way his brother acted about it was so calm, as if he didn't care what Sherlock was.

Sherlock couldn't fucking sleep, so he sat up and ruffled through his things before he found his phone. He knew this would ruin the battery, but he would charge it in the morning. He turned it on and listened to music for what seemed like an eternity before he still couldn't sleep.

He couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities between John and himself. He couldn't stop thinking about himself up on that stage in the cafeterianasium (what the teachers called it) with John, singing what he now considered their song.

He gave up on the phone and luckily turned it off, and tried to simply sleep, but still couldn't. Then he did something he didn't think would really work. He sorted through his mind palace and found John's voice and listened to it, and halfway through listening to the song he had stored away, he fell asleep… : )

* * *

**The talent show it settled. How cute it would be to see them up on stage singing together! : ) Reviews? Suggestions? **


	5. Dog Tags

Just One More Nigh of Flesh: Dog Tags

John woke to the usual morning, Mum gone and working at the hospital until John gets back from school. But when he went down to the kitchen, he found something he didn't expect.

* * *

Sherlock woke that morning to Mike bugging him and telling him he'd be late if he didn't get his ass out of bed now!

He sat up and looked at the clock, "Mike, really? I won't be late. Shut up," and he threw the covers over his head as Mycroft tried to pull them off.

"Stop being so childish. Get up!" Mycroft pulled the covers off and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Leave me alone, then!" he shouted. Mycroft huffed and walked out, slamming the door behind himself. Sherlock sighed and finally rose from the bed he reluctantly slept in last night. But then he remembered how he had gotten sleep, and he decided he would let himself crush on this John character, but it was no more than that.

Just a little crush that won't be returned. It was painfully obvious that he likes Mary so much more than anyone else, especially a man. Although John had said something about being confused and that had lead Sherlock to believe that he wasn't going to reveal anything anytime soon. So Sherlock was stuck in the friend zone.

He hated it, but he didn't hate John, so it balanced itself out, and Sherlock dealt with it and pulled clothes out of his closet. The black beanie on his desk was always put on, then there was his band tee, today it was Misfits. Yeah, they're a little odd, but Sherlock didn't give a fuck.

Then there was his denim jeans and always his Converse. If he wasn't wearing Converse, he wasn't wearing shoes. He honestly hated shoes, but he had to wear them or he'd get in trouble, so he chose Converse.

His mother didn't disapprove of the way he dressed and neither did his father. They thought it was normal teen stuff, but Mycroft hated it. He said it wasn't professional and that Sherlock should wear nice things instead of men and or women covered in make-up.

But as always Sherlock ignored his brother and only wore something 'professional' when he had to. And even then, sometimes he barely tried. There was once when he went to a wedding and he wasn't wearing a tux, he was wearing jeans and a band tee.

His mother had scolded him, but his aunt (who the wedding was for) had praised him for being different and that settled that. Any other time Sherlock wouldn't have tried that, but he liked his aunt.

He shook himself from his thought as he grabbed his backpack and ran down the stairs, to catch the breakfast his mother had made him. He appreciated the thought, but in the morning he was rarely ever hungry.

But he ate anyway, to satisfy his mother, because she was the best mother anyone could ever ask for. And he would praise his father in such a way, but he was barely ever here. But that's what happens when you join the Marines.

This was also why Sherlock wanted to be a consulting detective. He would invent the job and every time the police were out of their depths, (which was almost always), they would consult him, the greatest detective in all the world.

He loved imagining himself being in a flat, then the police bust through and beg him to help. He smiled at that through the bite of eggs he took.

* * *

John had come down to a note, he picked it up and it was heavy, as if there was something more than just paper in it. It was his mum's handwriting, that was obvious.

He pulled out the note first, not wanting to look at what was in there until he had read it. It was a small piece of paper, but it had the most meaningful of words attached in his mother's handwriting: _"These were your father's and since I couldn't be there to give them to you properly, I figure now that you're an adult and probably will join the Army as he did, you should have the one thing that is left to remember him with-_

_Love, _

_Mum"_

He reached in and pulled out a chain, and attached to it were his father's dog tags. He almost cried. His mother was willing to give this up for John? As he walked back up the stairs to get a shower, he stared in astonishment as the chain he held in his hands.

He had never seen his mother without them under her shirt, and now they were his? He just couldn't believe it. When he reached the bathroom door, he did cry. Briefly, but tears fell and then he pushed the door open and finished his morning before he had to run out the door.

* * *

Sherlock observed the blond sitting beside him and found something to be different this morning. He was wearing a simple long sleeve shirt that had blue stripes, and he was wearing jeans and his Vans, but then when he sat down, Sherlock knew what it was.

He was happy, but why? He looked at the blond again, and figured out why, "Your father's?" he asked and John was dumbfounded.

"What?" he was confused.

"The dog tags, father's?" he asked again.

John, "Oh yeah, they are," he pulled them out from under his shirt and showed Sherlock the name, "See?" _Watson, Anthony _, so that was what his name was. Interesting. Then John did something Sherlock didn't expect. While he tucked the tags under his shirt, "Um, so I was wondering," he looked at Sherlock, "My mum wants to meet you and I'm making dinner tonight, I was wondering if you'd like to come over?" he was nervous, no doubt.

Sherlock tilted his head at John and seemed confused at first, but then accepted, "Sure, but I got to text my brother who will tell my mum," he pulled out his phone and texted hurriedly: _Having dinner with John. Tell Mum, would u?- SH_

_She says it's fine…- MH _he got a reply within seconds. Sherlock nodded, "I'm good. I guess I'll get off with you at your bus stop, then?"

John nodded, "That would be easiest," he was nervous and giddy at the same time. His mum meeting Sherlock was what made him nervous. What would she say to someone like him? He didn't know, but honestly, he sort of didn't care.

He cared what his mother had to say, but he didn't care if she approved or not. It was weird. He'd never felt something like that for someone before.

He found Sherlock staring at him and he snapped himself from his thoughts. "Just to warn you," he started, "I don't eat much. So don't be insulted if I don't eat all of what you make."

"Trust me, you'll eat all of it. Mum says I cook better than she does. Says I get it from my father," he blushed and almost cried at the same time. But he held back the tears and just stared into Sherlock's eyes.

It was so silent between them that John could hear Sherlock's music coming from his other earbud. He giggled at the song, "The Only Exception".

Sherlock noticed this, "Is there something funny about my music, John?" he leaned in close and raised an eyebrow at him.

"No," _but it's funny that I feel what the lyrics are saying_, "Just funny because I didn't think you listened to them," he admitted.

"Idiot," their noses touched and Sherlock leaned back in his seat.

"Arse," John said back. Sherlock looked sideways at John and laughed. John joined him and there was that feeling again. The one he didn't want to have for Sherlock, but he gave up. If his mother approved, he was happy with it.

But he didn't think that Sherlock felt anything for him. Plus, they've only known each other for a day, but it feels as though they've known each other for so long and were just now getting together again. John felt as if he knew Sherlock, but he didn't. It was strange, _Do you always confuse people? _He wanted to ask.

Sherlock could have asked the same though. He, too, felt as though he had known John, but just didn't know him properly. He was able to deduce things about someone, but who they were was something he couldn't get. Yet. He was working on it.

But with John, it seemed as though all that practice went out the door and he had no idea. He knew who Mary was, and Sebastian and Anderson. But John was like a puzzle he was still piecing together and wasn't sure what went where.

He hated being confused, but he loved being near John. He wanted to say he liked John more than just having a crush on him, but he didn't think John would want him. So he kept it to himself and if anyone ever asks, it's just a crush. Something he wouldn't act on.

John declared that if anyone besides Mary asked about Sherlock, he would say that he was a really _really_ good friend. But that was all. But if it was Mary, maybe he could tell her. He still didn't know… : )

* * *

**Getting to the feels now, so just hang in there and in a few more chapters there will kisses and tears. But, for now... reviews? Suggestions?**


	6. Whispers

Just One More Night of Flesh: Whispers

Today was normal. Anderson tried again, and Sherlock was refrained from punching him as a teacher walked by. But afterwards, Anderson was gone. Sherlock was happy he could scare the idiot away from John. No one will hurt John, ever again.

Sherlock even said so on the way home from school that day. The bus bumped down the road as Sherlock spoke to say, "I hope you know, that he won't ever hurt you again. I can promise you that," Sherlock said.

John blushed, "Thanks. But I don't need you to defend me," Sherlock scoffed and John laughed. "But, I guess just to please you, you can do whatever you like to Anderson," John promised.

Sherlock chuckled, "Oh!" he just remembered, "What did your mum say about the talent show?" he asked.

"Oh! Wow, I fucking forgot, she said I could do it, and that she would be there," John was happy.

"My mum said it was okay, and guess what else?" he leaned into John and he hummed he was listening, "That's the day that Dad comes home and he gets to see me sing, with you, in front of the whole fuckin' school. Isn't that fantastic?" he asked the man he had now been leaning on and didn't have any intentions of moving.

John accepted his movement and simply said, "That's brilliant! Does he know what you're singing?" he asked the _gorgeous _burnet leaning on him and he had his feet up on the window.

"Actually, that's the fun part," he pulled out his phone to change the song, "It's a surprise, he doesn't even know it's the talent show, he only agreed to meet us at the school at 2:00," Sherlock was surprised the bus driver hadn't yelled at him yet.

"Wow! Damn, you just like keeping secrets, don't you?" John asked him and moved his shoulder to nudge the burnet.

"Yes, I do. And I like finding them as well," he grinned and leaned back to where he could see John's face. Upside down, but still adorable. He readjusted himself and was sitting on his own now. John felt lonely now, and he stared at the seat where Sherlock had moved to.

He shook himself from his thoughts and looked to the man on his phone still. It looked as though he was texting someone. John leaned over to look, he was. It was someone by the name of Mike.

"Mike?" Sherlock jumped at the sudden voice in his ear.

"Oh," he sighed, "Yeah. Mycroft, my brother. It doesn't matter," and it didn't. He was simply texting him that if Sherlock didn't return home, not to be worried. He had a feeling that John would ask if he wanted to stay over.

John had read part of the text and was confused and then fit the pieces together. _Could he? No, he never even told me about that part of him. I shouldn't assume just because I read PART of a text. It was probably something else… _

Sherlock could see John was thinking. Maybe now was the time to admit some things? No, Sherlock shook his head once and short enough that no one would have caught it. But John did, from his peripheral vision. He had really good eyes and he was glad for that. It would one day make him a good soldier.

Maybe John should admit some things as well, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to be denied because he has a crush on a guy who isn't interested. "By the way," John decided to start, "you know my sexuality situation. What's yours? You don't have to answer of it's too-"

Sherlock's eyes widened as he cut him off, "No. Uhm… actually." But he couldn't finish as their stop was reached. _Curse time. _

They walked off the bus as Sherlock continued, "As you've noticed, I like Mary," John was disappointed at what he thought he was going to hear, "But she's just a crush compared to this one guy…" Sherlock wouldn't tell him yet, but he didn't need to lie.

John was hopeful now, but if he liked another guy, what could John do? But he still asked, "This one guy?"

"Yeah. He's adorable and has most of the same interests I do. I haven't known him very long, but I feel like it's more than a crush, but it's not like I love him, you know?" Sherlock explained without saying it was John, which was surprisingly difficult.

"Yeah. I know. Well, I kinda like this one guy. He's like you said, I have a lot in common with him and I like him, but I'm not head over heels, yet." _Yet?! I'm such an idiot!_

"Yet?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows, disappointed that he knew John liked someone else.

"Well," he twisted his shirt in his fingers then put his hands to his sides, "I don't know if he likes me back. It sucks," he admitted and looked into Sherlock's eyes. _God, those eyes… it's almost as if someone painted him and that's how he's so perfect. Stop it! He likes someone else. It's impossible now…_

But this didn't mean that they couldn't be friends. They were still friends, really good friends. But when Sherlock's hand brushed up against John's, they both felt as though they didn't care if he liked someone else. They wanted him, and this wasn't going to change.

But when john walked through the door to find his mum's chair empty, he said, "Get comfortable. I'll see if Mum's home yet." And he was up the stairs to see if she was in her bedroom or possibly the bathroom.

No, she wasn't anywhere. But when he walked into her room, there was another envelope, with a note for John. From his mum.

_I know how much you like this Sherlock character, so I've decided not to intrude on your dinner and I will be home at eight. Have fun, but not too much fun… ;) _

_Love, _

_Mum_

John couldn't believe it, she was basically making Sherlock and John spend time together, get to know each other and it seemed as though his mother wanted her to be with Sherlock. But why? He flipped the note over and to his surprise, found something else written.

_P.S. I know that you're father wouldn't have cared if you liked a boy, and in turn I encourage you to be happy… _

John could have cried, but he didn't. Instead he stopped by his room to drop his backpack and slip off his shoes and he went back to Sherlock in the living room. He was sitting on the couch and wasn't wearing his shoes or socks. John smiled and slid the note in his pocket.

"What's that?" Sherlock has asked before the paper was fully in his pocket.

"It's an note from my mum, she won't be home until eight. So I guess she won't meet you after all. Unless you want to stay the night…" John left the gesture open.

"Sounds lovely," he smiled. John was surprised at this. _Did he just say that sounded lovely?_ John almost couldn't believe this.

He nodded and before he walked out to the kitchen, he threw the remote at Sherlock, "It's crap, but you can try to find something," and he was in the kitchen.

But what he thought was strange was the fact that he heard the remote land on the coffee table and Sherlock shuffled out to the kitchen. "I don't want to watch TV, I want to watch you," he purred and sat in a chair.

John blushed but it was hidden by the fact that he was rooting through the cupboards and things to find a pan and some other things to make chicken and dumplings. His favorite, and it's the easiest thing he knows.

It takes time, but it's easy. Sherlock leaned back in his chair as he watched John cut into the chicken and walk around the kitchen and fry things and do everything he had seen his mother do once. John thought it was a little weird, having someone watch him, so he asked, "Why do you want to watch me instead of someone else?"

"Because you interest me," and suddenly he was behind John leaning over him, whispering to him, "I don't like actors, they're not like you," he had his hands behind his back, so he wasn't tempted to touch John.

Okay, so now that that's over and done with, he grabbed plates and briefly caught the clock, 5:21. Fantastic. He has a little over two and a half hours to waste before his mum could save from this awkward silence.

Sherlock sat again, and John served himself as well as the taller man. He decided to leave some for his mum if she wanted any. As he ate, he watched Sherlock look at his food. Sherlock wasn't sure if he should react as he always does when someone hands him food, or if he should eat it all.

Well, that would depend on how good it was. He took a few bites and decided he would eat all of it. John was pleased as he said, "I told you so…" : )

* * *

**Hang in there, I know... feels. But just wait until John's mum meets this Sherlock character... : ) Reviews? Suggestions? **


	7. Silence

Just One More Night of Flesh: Silence

" I told you so," Sherlock leaned back in his chair as John looked smug. Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood.

"So," he started, "What do you say we finish our homework? I know I don't want to fail my senior year," he said.

John sighed and went upstairs as Sherlock grabbed his stuff and joined him. He walked into the small room, _Smaller than mine, but somehow better. The things that could happen…no! He already said he likes someone else! Then again, he never gave a name… no!_

John stared at the man who had walked in and he sat on the bed as he plopped his backpack down beside him, hoping Sherlock would ask him to move it so he could sit there. But he didn't. he simply sat on the other side of the bag. _Shit! _"Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?" he looked back to the blond instead of his now open bag.

"I forgot my Mathematics book at school, can I use yours?" it was innocent enough.

John's bag hit the floor as he dug around for a pencil and his binder, and Sherlock scooted closer as he propped the maths book open on his knees. He could feel his heartbeat get higher and he knew his eyes were dilating, but when he looked at john, he seemed to be the same way.

But as they finished off the last of the work, Sherlock couldn't help but think that John wasn't talking about someone else, and John started to think the same about Sherlock. Especially with the way Sherlock was leaning into him, with an excuse of course, but still.

John looked at the clock his mother had hung on the wall, and when the front door opened, he realized just how long doing homework took these days.

He looked to Sherlock, excited. "Come on," he took him by the wrist and lead him down the stairs.

He found his mother in her long green jacket, and he smiled as he greeted her, "Mum, could um." He chuckled nervously, "Could Sherlock stay the night?" his eyes begged her to say yes.

She looked at this mysterious figure her son was holding the wrist of. She smiled, "I assume that this is him, then?" John nodded as he laughed and handed her his hand. She shook it as he let go and blushed slightly at the fact that he had been holding his wrist for so long.

"Have you cleared it with your parents?" she asked, eyeing him. He nodded, his curls bouncing. "Alright, you do ride the same bus, right?" she asked. Sherlock nodded and they both smiled as John took Sherlock's wrist to lead him back upstairs.

"Actually, John, I'll follow you in a sec. I want to have a word with your mother," Sherlock had deduced her and he wanted to ask her about something about John.

John was confused, but he said, "Okay," and he scampered up the stairs to his room where he left the door open.

"I can see that you know?" Sherlock asked John's mum. She nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She smiled as he said, "Be sure you keep where you were a secret, as well. I won't tell him, but you are interesting. I can see where he gets it from," Sherlock smiled.

She eyed this man, "Where I was?" she asked, confused.

"Please, it's quite obvious where you were. Just make sure John's okay with that before you tell him," Sherlock nodded and ran up the stairs as the woman stared at him. _How could he know I had a date? This guy is weird, maybe John should be careful, after all…_

"I'm sorry, I just had to ask her something," Sherlock apologized as he closed the door behind him.

John nodded, "Well, it's fine. I just enjoy her company. Without my mum, I'd be lost," he smiled at Sherlock as he sat beside John again, somehow closer.

As he turned to face the blond, their knees brushed up against one another, and John noticed, while Sherlock didn't seem to, "Your mum is intriguing. I can see where you get it from. Plus, she's beautiful, that too," Sherlock looked to the confused man sitting beside him.

"Are you telling me I'm beautiful?" he asked, mislead into thinking Sherlock liked someone else, he didn't think he would ever hear those words coming from his pretty mouth.

"Why yes, is that so hard to understand?" he said, matter-of- factly, as if it was something he said to anyone.

"Actually, it is." He blushed, "I thought you said you like 'this one guy'," John as if it was a question.

Sherlock nodded, "I do like 'this one guy', but I never gave you a name, now did I?" Sherlock didn't want to, but he was slowly and surely admitting that he liked John.

John eyed him as his eyes landed in Sherlock's as he somehow leaned closer and hadn't noticed, but Sherlock had, "What are you implying?" John whispered.

Sherlock leaned in closer and John noticed, anyone else wouldn't have, "What do you think? Besides," he whispered, "I have a feeling that 'that one guy' wasn't someone else with you, either."

"You confuse me," leaning closer.

Sherlock leaned in closer and their faces were so close, their noses were almost touching, "Good, it will always be like that. But what I meant was that you like someone who's very close to you at the moment," he smiled as their noses did touch.

John was at first confused, but then he understood that Sherlock knew, and he liked John. "But," he was about to try to reason and say that this was something else that he was feeling, but he couldn't find the right words.

"Yours is nice, yes, your point?" Sherlock chuckled as John raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled and laughed quietly.

"That's not what I meant, but you've got quite the backside yourself," he blushed and admitted. Sherlock was starting to turn pink as John's hand landed on his, his thumb stroking Sherlock's. Sherlock linked their fingers together and with his other hand, brought John to where their noses weren't touching anymore, but they chests were, and this was so silently sweet.

Sherlock's lips ghosted over John's and he was shaking. But Sherlock couldn't judge because he was as well. All of his past came flooding back as he stared into those blue eyes.

He remembered the last time he fell in love with a boy, it ended badly and his brother had told him that he should have listened. He shouldn't have fallen for a man who was going to be a professional liar. But Irene was a woman and she had done the same thing to him.

Besides, Greg was a nice boy and Sherlock liked him. Not every boy that was gay or bisexual was bad, right? Is John lying to Sherlock? Does Sherlock really like John, or is this something that's basically and experiment? Sherlock wanted to know, but he didn't.

He hated not knowing, and the man under him was something he didn't about completely. But John didn't know if Sherlock was just interested in John because he was different or because he was the first person Sherlock met.

They both had so many questions, but none of them mattered anymore.

All that mattered was the fact that Sherlock's fluffy and full lips were pressed lightly to John's thin, but soft ones and he was melting into the burnet and he couldn't help but to weave his fingers through that glorious hair. It was funny, because usually Sherlock hated when his beanie fell off, but when he heard it plop onto the blanket under them, he didn't give a shit.

When they parted, John fingers were still in Sherlock's hair, and Sherlock's arms was still around John's waist and they also realized that their hands were still pressed together and their fingers were still in between one another's.

John wriggled away and stood in front of the man on his bed, "Right. We need sleep and a shower in the morning. I'll be quick about that. But for now, we need pajamas," then he realized, "And you don't have any, damn. Um, do you wanna see if mine will fit? They're a little big on me in the first place," he suggested.

Sherlock laughed at the frazzled blond, "Sure, whatever you want. I just want you to be in my arms again." John's eyes popped open and he stared at Sherlock, _What? Did he just… never mind, I need to find him something to wear. Uhm…_ John rooted through his closet and found something that he knew would fit the burnet... that was now leaning over him and staring into his eyes, "John…" oh, God, his whispers… it was better when everything was silent.

"Sherlock, stop it," he handed him the PJs, "here," Sherlock looked down and as he swiped his beanie from the bed and plopped it on the floor, he stripped his clothes in five seconds flat. John stared as he slipped on John's pajamas.

John took this chance to undress as well and climb into silky PJs. But Sherlock caught him while he was still in his underwear, and he was staring at the back turned to him as it was covered with a shirt, and then trousers covered the pants that never left John's hips.

"I can take the floor," John offered.

"No, we'll share the bed. It's only sleep, right?" Sherlock laid down on the side closest to the wall and waited for John to join him.

"Um," he pursed his lips then flattened them, "Sure. Whatever," he climbed in after switching off the light. He slipped under the blanket and Sherlock hands found John's chest.

"Can I cuddle with my boyfriend?" _Boyfriend!? _He gulped his nerves down and nodded as he wrapped his hands around Sherlock's waist and Sherlock's arms went around John's shoulders. Sherlock's legs came around and took John's hips in them and made John Sherlock's.

"I hope you know that I've only known you for like three days, barely," John said.

"I know, but I don't care..." he whispered and fell asleep holding John like this. And John's body gave up and he fell asleep as well… : )

* * *

**I know, a bit abrupt, but I couldn't hold back from writing that... so, reviews? Suggestions?**


	8. Mornings

Just One More of Flesh: Mornings

John had slipped out of Sherlock's grip and he almost laughed because when he did, Sherlock took his pillow in place of him. Sherlock looked so luminous when he was sleeping. His face was free of worry and he looked happy.

John liked it, so he decided he would get a shower and make him breakfast before he would wake him.

* * *

Sherlock woke and he couldn't feel John in between his arms. He sat up and looked around, then heard someone in the kitchen, and decided it was John. He also took it upon himself to steal a set of John's clothes because he had none.

When he hopped out of the shower, he decided he like John's band tees more than his own. Why didn't John dress like this himself? Is it a weekend thing and he just wears nice clothes for school? He'd have to ask John about that.

For now, his nose was attracted to the smells coming from the kitchen. He could smell the pancakes first, then the bacon, and he didn't even bother with deducing the other one, that was all he needed and he pulled on his shoes and his beanie and raced down the stairs.

John was standing at the stove controlling two pans while there was a third off to the side that wasn't used. But the two that were being used had bacon and pancakes, just as he thought. He walked up behind his blond and grabbed his waist, "Hi," he purred.

John jumped, "Jesus, Sherlock. Don't do that. But, hey," he replied. Then when Sherlock let go and sat he watched John finish what he was doing.

He finished off the bacon and poured the eggs he whipped by hand in the grease. _Who taught him to do this? Oh, that's right, he said his father was good at this kind of thing. Maybe he likes cooking for that reason. It helps him remember his father… _

Then John simply turned around and dumped what he had cooked onto the plates that were on the table. Sherlock stared at it, and it looked better than his mum's. He hated admitting that, but when he tasted it, it was definite that John was a better cook than his mum. That, is fucking funny.

Sherlock glanced at the clock, only 7:00. Damn, this man knows his schedule. Then again, he does want to be a soldier. John slid his dishes into the sink and Sherlock's followed as he was behind him again, "You'll have to teach me how to do that one day," Sherlock said in his ear.

"Teach you what, exactly?" John asked, confused, and leaning into Sherlock's arms.

"Teach me how to cook…"

John turned to face him and shrugged, then he really looked Sherlock over, "I see you're comfortable with my style." He gestured to the band tee and the blue jeans.

Sherlock blushed, "I had no extra clothes, plus, they'll be returned tonight," he smirked at the blond staring at him in confusion again, "You're staying over, didn't you know?"

"Sherlock," John sighed, "You're an idiot," he insulted him, yet it sounded so lovely coming from his lips. Sherlock rolled his eyes as John said, "I don't know if my mum would let me, though. I mean you are my boyfriend," he still wasn't familiar with that word, "and she doesn't know your parents…"

"Mum's always home and my father doesn't come back until September because he's a Marine, what else does she need to know? Oh and my brother can be a pretentious dick, but that's about it," he said.

John shook his head, "I'll ask. But there are no guarantees with this, got it?" he dug in his pocket to pull out his mobile as Sherlock smiled and his fingers were in John's belt loops as he brought them closer. He was satisfied when they were touching and John was blushing.

He texted his mum, never called, and she replied within seconds: _Sure. Just make sure nothing happens. I'll see you tomorrow, though, won't I?- CW_

_Yes, Mum. I won't be at his place forever…- JW_

John was surprised, though. He looked up at Sherlock and smiled. He couldn't hold this one back, and as he slipped his phone back in his pocket, he kissed the man hovering over him.

"I assume she said yes, then?" John nodded briefly before his lips landed on his lover's again. When they parted again, "I hope you know, you're the first person I've slept with, let alone a guy. It was nice, thanks," Sherlock thanked him suddenly.

"Am I the first guy you've been with in general?" Sherlock shook his head, "Well, you're the first I've been with, let alone slept with. And don't worry, I've never slept with anyone either. Despite that one situation… but never mind," John drew attention to himself and in this situation, he hated it.

Sherlock had to ask, "Are you a virgin?" John blushed and shook his head, "That explains it," Sherlock said as if it was obvious.

"What?" John asked, curious.

"Well, you're an adult, but your mother has to know where you are before you can do anything. I'd say you're a momma's boy, but you're not like that, so I figured it was something more serious. So who was she?" he asked suddenly.

"Actually, it was Mary. But we had a huge argument afterwards and I couldn't be with her anymore, especially with her father being so overprotective. Honestly, she was right to dump me," he admitted.

"Mm, no she wasn't," Sherlock said, and John was confused. Sherlock explained, "Well, I think you're wonderful and whoever doesn't think so is an idiot. Even if she is a genius named Mary," Sherlock smiled and John chuckled and mumbled something to himself.

But Sherlock had caught it as, "Tell that to the woman I loved," but he looked back to Sherlock and smiled anyway.

"I know how you feel. Not completely, but I've had both a woman and a man rip my heart out. It was why I was so nervous to crushing on you at first. I didn't want to be hurt again. But for some reason I trust you. I've known you for three days and I trust you. You know, you'll make a good doctor," Sherlock complimented.

"Will I, now?" John asked, not expecting an answer. But he was given a nod and a kiss to finalize it. "We are weird, though," John admitted, "Knowing each other for such a short time and we're stuck to each other like glue to paper. I knew Mary for a year before I ever even kissed her," he said.

"It is weird, but do we care?" Sherlock asked, "Besides, I knew you within the first few second I laid eyes on you. And you know me better than most would by now."

"Show off," John smirked and kissed him on the cheek before saying, "We have to get to school now. Or we'll miss the bus and I don't want to do that," John admitted.

Sherlock sighed, "Yeah, but I wish we could just skip school and stay here and watch crap telly and cuddle," he nuzzled his nose on John's neck and kissed it afterwards.

"Yes, well. We don't always get what we want," he sounded like a father disappointing his son. But he wasn't, he was a boyfriend telling his lover that he needed to grow up.

Sherlock chuckled, "If we did, I would have you on this table begging for mercy," Sherlock admitted and looked at his blushing blond. "I love that it only takes my voice to get you to blush," he kissed John's forehead and settled on his lips.

* * *

They did eventually make it to their seat on the bus and found the girls behind them giggling when they sat down, because they were holding hands and they didn't care who saw it. At first John was nervous about the bus driver, but she didn't care, as long as they weren't snogging on a school bus for middle and high schoolers, she was fine with it.

They leaned over the seat as they had done when they first heard the girls, "What are you giggling at?" Sherlock spat.

John slapped his thigh and as he rubbed the pain away they said simply, "You guys are cute," and giggled again.

John sat back as they rolled their eyes at the sixth graders that practically were fangirls over Sherlock and John. One of them even leaned over the top of the seat, "What's your name?" she asked John.

"I'm John, this is Sherlock. What's yours?" he asked in return.

"I'm Maggie and this is Sophia," she pointed to the little burnet that popped her head over the seat to join her friend.

Sophia spoke up with a wide grin, "I call them JohnLock. What do you think, Maggie?" she nudged her with her elbow.

Sherlock's grip on John's hand tightened as John was confused, "JohnLock?"

"It's a ship name! Your relationship name!" Maggie spoke, "I like it," she nodded to Sophia, and they sat down again and were giggling about something else now.

Sherlock grunted as John laughed. "What? Don't you like our ship name?" he teased.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "It's stupid. But whatever," he sighed. John cuddled into Sherlock as they finished the bumpy as always ride to school… : )

* * *

**So, now they're officially together and they both agreed that it is a little weird, but do they care? Nope! So, Reviews? Suggestions? : )**


	9. Interested

Just One More Night of Flesh: Interested

John and Sherlock were at the lunch table again, laughing at Mary's impression of Chewbacca, when Anderson walked up behind Sherlock and tapped him on the shoulder. When Sherlock turned to face him, he tried to punch Sherlock.

But the taller burnet was quick, and the ugly one missed. Then Sherlock grabbed his fist and pulled it to behind his back, "Would you give up already? And don't try John, either," he leaned closer and whispered, "My boyfriend wouldn't like it if my face, or his for that matter, weren't so pretty, now would he?" and he pushed him into the other table behind him.

"You," he pointed and stuttered, "You're with…?" he glanced at the smirking blond, and back to the towering burnet, and then he screamed like a girl, "EEEWWWW!" and ran away, trying to get Sherlock's 'touch' off of him, "I've been touched by a homo! Get it off!"

But Sherlock just laughed as well as Mary and John when he sat back down and put his arm around John's waist. "That should keep him away now. Either that or-"

"I'll kick his ass. I'm pretty good in combat as well," he cleared his throat, "My dad taught me." but he was smiling, proud to admit that his father was amazing. And Sherlock's smile reflected John's and Mary suddenly felt jealous.

She hid it well, but Sherlock saw it, and he was giving her smug glances when he got the chance. And then the bell rang.

* * *

Maths was a little weirder, seeing as the professor kept eyeing the couple he had in his class. _Little geniuses… maybe I should ask them. But I don't know if they'd accept something like that. No, I'll wait until they graduate. _Magnussen studied the boys and decided they'd be good to have on his task force. He smiled when the bell rang and he stopped them.

"I would like you two to know, that when you apply to college you should consider getting a job that deals with Maths. It seems you like this class," he complimented.

"Actually, I plan to be a consulting detective, and John," Sherlock nudged his elbow with his own, "is going to be an Army doctor, so we're good. See you tomorrow," he waved and took John's wrist and lead him from the classroom and to their next classes.

The professor leaned back in his swivel chair and thought they had potential.

* * *

"He seemed interested in how good we were," Sherlock squeezed John's hand slightly and it was returned.

"It just, it kinda creeps me out," he admitted and looked to Sherlock who was smiling smugly.

"They both have so many secrets. And they're both so quiet… I'm glad I met you," he suddenly said to John.

"Who has secrets? What- Sherlock, tell me, I can't quite keep up with your mind," he admitted and Sherlock told him all he had deduced about Mary and Magnussen. He then theorized that Mary's secret was the reason she dumped John.

"You're all kinds of crazy," John said.

"But you like it, and you know it," Sherlock teased.

"Shut up, stupid git," he insulted him playfully.

"Arse…" he leaned in close and his breath was hot on John's neck as he said, "We're going to have so much fun tonight," he didn't care if the people surrounding him on the bus could hear it, he had to tease John with it.

"I hope you know," John said in a low voice, "that I'm making you wait for that," John declared.

"And just how long?" Sherlock asked.

"Until you're eighteen," Sherlock had told John about his age and John didn't care, even though Sherlock thought it was an issue. It really wasn't, and if anyone was going to judge, they could go fuck themselves.

"Which I hope you know, is in a few months," his hand was pressed to John's chest as he cuddled into his lover. John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's shoulders.

"A few months?" asking when it was exactly.

"Yes, November 15th, and I expect that my mother will try to throw a party and I won't invite but a few people, so it really is hopeless-" and he was cut off by John hooking a finger on his chin and making him look into those lovely blue eyes.

He kissed him so lightly, that it was barely a kiss, and he knew it would torture the burnet, as he said, "Guess you're waiting , then. But it won't be that long," he admitted. And he was right when he thought that kiss tortured Sherlock, because he then grabbed John by his jumper and crashed them together in a way that was quick, but hot.

John licked his lips nervously and just cuddled up into Sherlock again and hoped that the butterflies would settle. But they didn't and he noticed that Sherlock was also blushing and he didn't feel so bad now.

* * *

John followed slash was dragged off the bus by Sherlock when they approached a house that was magnificent. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the man standing in front of him. He had texted his mum that John was allowed to stay over tonight, and she didn't care.

He lead John through the green grass and to the door that was painted black, despite the pretty blue the house was on the outside. John liked it, and as Sherlock pushed it open, he was surprised at the room in front of him.

It looked as though it came straight from the movies. There were two sitting chairs and a couch and a coffee table sitting in front of a fireplace, and off to the left was a kitchen that had all that John could dream of. He saw a woman there, her jade eyes meeting his and he looked at the rest of her, as Sherlock greeted her as he always did: with a kiss to the cheek.

"Mum, this is John," he pulled John over to meet this beautiful woman. John blushed a little and waved while mumbling a responsive "Hi," but that was it. She smiled warmly down on this man who was in her son's grip.

She hugged him, which surprised John, but when she whispered, "Take care of my dearest Sherlock," he understood. He nodded and Sherlock yanked them both up to his room. All the way up the thirty two stairs and to Sherlock's room.

Sherlock sat in his bed and John walked slowly in, "Close the door, would you, little doctor?" he gave him a last minute nickname, and decided he actually liked that one.

"Little Doctor?" he asked as he did as he was asked as he stripped his back pack and his jumper, a flannel underneath.

"Yes, is there something wrong with that?" Sherlock asked, almost sounding offended.

John shook his head, "No, just a little surprising, I guess," and he leaned over Sherlock's shoulder as he saw him pull out the homework given. It wasn't much today, just for two classes and they finished it together before Mycroft walked in.

John's eyes were wide as he took in this man. He was in a suit, as always, and had a glare placed on his face, but it was one that John could tell was always there. "Sherlock," he looked to blond and gave a sudden warm smile that John returned, "Is this that boy you won't shut up about?"

John smiled and leaned into Sherlock more as he said, "That boy has a name. He's John, and yes. He is fabulously intriguing and interests me far more than your words right now. Go away," he gripped John's waist harder and John squirmed under the sudden pressure.

"Don't be so mean to your brother," John warned, "You may need him one day and he won't be there because you hurt him. But you," he looked at the smug elder, and smiled as he said, "need to be nice in return," John demanded of them.

Sherlock looked at him in utter endearment, and Mycroft was shocked, but the smile on his lips spread to a grin, "You hear? We should be brothers instead of squabbling men," Mycroft said stiffly.

"Whatever. Please leave my premises, now," he demanded in a 'nice' way. John glared at him, but he refused to be warm towards his brother. He looked at the wall defiantly and Mycroft left.

Once the door clicked shut again, Sherlock kissed him. John was confused, "What was that?" he asked, blinking several times.

"Because that was beautifully played. He's probably still pissed at me, but at least it's not so much now," Sherlock nodded once, his silky curls bouncing and John slightly swooning.

"What'd you do?" John asked. Was there a specific reason Mycroft was pissed at his lover?

I experimented on his cat after my dog died. The cat obviously didn't make it and I was pissed that the serum failed, but Mycroft was even more pissed that I killed Mittens," Sherlock laughed briefly at the name.

"When was this?" John asked.

"Oh, only a week ago when we first moved in. It was funny, he was soooo pissed," he laughed again. John rolled his eyes at his cruel burnet and snuggled into him. "Dinner?" he asked after the fit of laughter… : )


	10. Spaghetti?

Just One More Night of Flesh: Spaghetti?

"Dinner?" Sherlock had asked, and leaned in close enough that his breath was on John's neck. John nodded once and smiled as he looked into Sherlock's eyes and brought his lips to meet those that he envied.

"Starving," John finally responded. Sherlock smirked and took him by the wrist and as his bare feet padded on the floor he finally noticed that John had also stripped his socks and shoes. He practically pulled John down the stairs and into the kitchen where his mother was gingerly setting out plates for all of them.

"Hi, Mum." Sherlock hugged her around the neck and kissed her on the cheek, to which she smiled and set down the last plate to hug her son. As she caught John's eyes in her own, he noticed she had the same detecting look about them, as if she was studying something she didn't want to miss. What was with John and being interesting? He had no idea.

"Sit down, dear. I made your favorite tonight," she said as she set the pot down on the table. Spaghetti? _Sherlock's favorite food is Spaghetti? He could have told me that, I could have made that instead…_

Sherlock saw that look in John's eyes and said to calm him, "I liked yours too, John. You're a great cook," he leaned in closer so that his halfway across the kitchen mum wouldn't hear, "especially from behind," John blushed to a scarlet.

"Stop it, Sherlock," he warned and pushed the taller's face from his own. But he only licked it, which made John groan quietly and rub it back on his thigh. Sherlock froze with this touch, he didn't expect that to feel so… (what was the word?) he felt that 'good' wasn't enough to describe it, but 'erotic' was over the top. _There you go again, John. You confuse me so much…_

Sherlock sent a sideways smirk to John as his mother finally sat down and Mycroft had perfect timing and stole a seat next to John at the table that could easily seat six. John smiled warmly and Mycroft returned it as John saw that look about his face, as if he was looking at something he didn't expect to find beside Sherlock, his dearest little brother.

John then just folded his hands in his lap and looked down at his empty plate and the fork beside it. Then suddenly there was food on this plate and he looked to see Sherlock practically inhaling it. John almost laughed as he started on his own plate.

He must really like it, because John rarely ever saw him eat lunch. He wondered if Sherlock ate breakfast. Maybe, but he didn't know. _Haha, his mum probly has to force him to eat breakfast. He doesn't eat much. Except for when __**I **__made the food… _John smiled through his mouth being full, at the thought of Sherlock loving John's skilled hand in food.

Once everyone was finished and there was just tension rising, so Sherlock excused himself and John and he entwined their fingers as he pulled him back up the stairs. He quietly shut his room door behind John, then pressed John to it lightly.

He moved John's wrist to above his head with one hand, and his other went over John's hip as he got closer even more. They were pressed together and John saw what was going on, John had done something to flip a switch in his Holmes.

He exhaled through his nose at this realization and flattened his lips into a straight line as he looked at Sherlock, really looked. _Definitely lust, I'm screwed… not literally, I won't let that happen until later. But, God, just look at him… _

He didn't even think about it any longer, until Sherlock gave in to his body's screaming and he pressed his lips to John's. The blond excepted this and wiggled one hand free and wrapped it around his waist to push him completely on the _little doctor_ under him.

John pushed Sherlock from his lips as the man whimpered from lost contact, "Sherlock, no," he warned.

"But-"

"No," he slipped from the taller man's grip and sat on the bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he raised on eyebrow at the idiot just staring at him. A smile spread over his thin lips and Sherlock couldn't help shuffling over and sitting beside him and plopping his head on his shoulder.

"How'd you know what I wanted anyway?" _I thought I was the one to deduce the motives of another. Damn. _

"I may not observe as much as you do, but it doesn't mean I'm stupid, Sherlock," he seemed offended.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist and his head was on John's chest, "No, of course not," he mumbled. John smiled and at this thought in his head, and he didn't even think about it twice before grabbing Sherlock's shoulders and using this grip to slam his down on the sheets under them.

But he wasn't on top of Sherlock very long, because he settled with being curled into his side and having one leg possessing both of Sherlock's. Sherlock was surprised that he could be manhandled and it feel _good… _

John pushed his hand under Sherlock's shirt and made circles with his forefinger around his navel. Sherlock shivered at his touch and John chuckled quietly and nuzzled into Sherlock's neck. The burnet leaned into his blond as John almost fell asleep right then and there. But he managed to stay awake to hear Sherlock huff.

John propped himself on one elbow and looked down on his deducting burnet, and he smiled as he pressed his lips to Sherlock's forehead. He felt content with John's lips being anywhere on him. His hand was still up his shirt, feeling that perfectly soft skin under it.

Sherlock decided to return the favor and slipped his fingers under John's flannel and his fingertips traced the from the small of his back to his waistband, which wasn't far, but it still made john shiver and Sherlock smirk.

John was about to move as they both heard shuffling in the hall, but Sherlock gripped him tight and made him stay as Mycroft opened the door. Sherlock had a smug smiled on his lips and John glared at him as Mycroft complained, "Did you even finish your homework?"

Sherlock nodded, not bothering to move, "We both did. Is there a problem, Mike?" he lingered on the nickname because he knew Mycroft hated it.

"No, it's just, Mum wanted you two to accompany us in watching a few movies, if you still want to be a part of the family?" he still seemed to be complaining.

Sherlock finally sat up as he slid past John and their fingers locked as he pulled John, "Fine. So boring," he muttered as he took John down to the living room and they settled on the couch as Sherlock's mum was squatting in front of a rack of DVDs, finding one and popping it in.

John wasn't sure if he should cuddle into Sherlock, or if his mum would disapprove. He stared hard at her, looking for an answer to that internal question. She caught his begging eyes and grinned, then nodded once as they heard Mycroft coming down the stairs again.

He saw the sight of John leaning into Sherlock and barely sitting on his own and scoffed as he sat in his chair. Once the DVD player picked up the fact that there was a movie in its mitts, the advertisements started to play.

John tried to watch all of the movie, he really did. But he couldn't and he fell asleep, listening to Sherlock's heartbeat.

* * *

John was awakened by a soft hand stroking his cheek and giggling, "John, darling, you need to wake up for a couple of minutes," Sherlock was smiling down at the exhausted little blond on his shoulder.

Mycroft and his mum were already gone and most of the lights were turned out, "Sherlock? Wha- oh, I'm sorry," he immediately apologized for falling asleep.

"It's okay, do I need to carry you up to the bed?" Sherlock offered.

John tried to decline, but he could barely fucking stand, so Sherlock took the liberty of lifting him up in his surprisingly muscled arms. John giggled and poked one of them. It was almost as if he was drunk and Sherlock was carrying his drunk lover up to his bedroom. It was funny.

Sherlock set John down when they reached his room, when John could also finally stand on his own. "Sherlock?" he started, Sherlock hummed he was listening as his curls flew everywhere as he was searching for something in his closet, "Can I sleep with you, tonight? Just sleep, I swear," he asked.

"Do you have to ask?" Sherlock smiled and handed him PJs that were his, but he was almost grown out of them. John accepted them and he was glad Sherlock was at least skinny, because the silk would have slid right off his skin if they were any bigger.

But he smiled and as Sherlock slipped into another pair of pajamas and the lights were turned out, John had settled on the bed, under the covers and facing the wall, wanting Sherlock to cuddle with him instead of the other way around.

But Sherlock grunted in pain as his toes hit the leg of the bed, John giggled ad Sherlock glared at him through the dark, "Does my pain amuse you?" he asked as he slid under the covers and took John as his own.

John nodded and leaned back to kiss him, "Very much so," he teased. Sherlock wrapped his legs around John and squeezed his hips.

"Sh…" and they fell asleep, Sherlock's fingers in between John's and his legs possessively around the blond he

promised he would never let go of… : )

* * *

**Now all that's left of the fluffiness is for John to meet Sherlock's father... but all in good time. : ) In the meantime, reviews? Suggestions? **


	11. Hilarious

**Author's Warning: I can't help it, and from here the chapters may get longer… just saying… Enjoy!**

* * *

Just One More Night of Flesh: Hilarious

It had been a few weeks now, but not yet a month, and John and Sherlock had been practicing so hard for the talent show they knew they would at least place in. Sherlock wanted to be the best no matter what, but John just wanted to place.

As a matter of fact, it was when they were practicing, (more like almost snogging at how attracted to each other they were), and this woman walked up behind them, "That's lovely," she commented as their voices faded and only the music was left. The phone was loud by itself.

"And who the hell are you to-" John cut Sherlock off with a slap to the bottom and he jumped, almost dropping the phone in his hands, but he turned off the music and slid it into his back pocket.

"Sorry," John and Sherlock took in her features as John said, "he's not used to compliments from strangers. What's your name?" he asked. This woman was pretty but not as beautiful as Sherlock _(obviously)_.

Her hair was frazzled but in a nice way and she had small breasts, but she made up for it in having perfect curves. Her skirt made her knees bend together as she stood and her blouse tried to make her boobs pop, but it barely worked.

Her eyes were tired as she smiled, "I'm Sally. Sally Donavan, and you two are?" she asked politely, but a little skittish at the fact that the blond one was practically groping the tall burnet. He noticed and stopped and put his hand on the burnet's waist.

Sherlock popped his hip in frustration as John answered, "I'm John, John Watson, and this arrogant git, is Sherlock Holmes. He's nice when you get to know him," he glared up at the burnet who had his arms folded over his chest and his beanie hid most of his hair as he looked away.

John rolled his eyes as Sally laughed, "Right. Are you two…" she waved her hand at the one John had on his hip.

John nodded briefly, "We're both bisexual and in a relationship, yes," he looked at Sherlock and complained, "and will you lighten up? She's just commenting on something she liked. Anyway," he looked back to her, and she was grinning.

"It's fine. He's not the first to turn his nose up at me. Well, I guess I'll see you later, then," and she walked away, her hips swaying in a way that Sherlock deduced as promiscuous, and he scoffed at it.

"I don't like her," he said simply as he finally turned to face John.

"And who are you to judge so quickly? Just because you can deduce something, doesn't mean she's a bad person all together," he squeezed Sherlock's bum as the burnet stiffened.

"John, it's what I deduced that I don't like," he unfolded his arms and put them around John, "and I really don't like it."

"Cry me a river," John snapped playfully, and they walked back inside because the bell had rung and they only had four other classes left. Sherlock hadn't eaten that day, and John decided he wouldn't leave Sherlock's side, so he didn't eat either. Honestly, he didn't care if he was hungry, because Sherlock was all he needed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she started dating Anderson," he huffed and they walked through the classroom doorway and had to part. John squeezed his hand one last time and rolled his eyes as he sat down.

* * *

"She rides our bus," Sherlock said as Sally walked by and took a seat somewhere far in the back. _Good._

"Sherlock," John warned. "What exactly did you deduce that you hate so much?" he had to ask now. He hadn't earlier and now the question came out almost too fast.

"She's exactly like Anderson and if she knew what I do, she'd call me a freak and never look my way again. She's not my type of friend," Sherlock admitted.

"That's fine, but you don't have to hate her," John told the stubborn man squeezing his hand in anger. "Hey," he made Sherlock look at him, "Did you hear a word I just said?"

"Yes, every tone of it. But I don't care. Her and Mary have secrets, but hers is worse than Mary's by far." Sherlock had already told John he had deduced that Mary had a secret she was holding, "I just can't figure them out," he complained and huffed as his forehead landed on John's shoulder.

"They're called secrets for a reason, Sherlock." He pressed he pad of his pointer finger under the burnet's chin and pushed up and Sherlock looked at him briefly before their lips brushed together.

Sherlock wasn't satisfied with this, and he pushed the blond down on himself and they were half seated and yet half laying on the seat as Sherlock's tongue slid past John's lips. This was only the second time they had tongue and yet Sherlock was so good and knew how to make John moan.

Luckily, John didn't moan, but he definitely melted into the _sexy detective's tongue. Mmmm… _John couldn't help but think of Sherlock as a detective already, because he detected things about people that most others don't bother with, so…

Then Sherlock's tongue pulled out and he kissed John hard before they sat up again and the guys in the seat next to them were creeped out. They were freshman, and their faces were hilarious! John and Sherlock looked at them, then looked to one another and laughed.

When John's stop was reached, they carried out their regular Friday routine. First, John's house and homework, dinner, because John was amazing at cooking and then they walked down to Sherlock's and John spent the night. And usually on the Saturday that followed, Sherlock would sleep over at John's. But that wasn't always the case, sometimes they just stayed at Sherlock's.

Of course, their mothers didn't care that they spent so much time together, as a matter of fact, their mothers spent a lot of time together themselves. They decided since it was official that Sherlock and John were openly dating, they should meet.

And, since John's mum was going to be at the talent show, she could meet Sherlock's father as well. Sherlock and John didn't care, as long as they could spend time together. And their parents also knew that they weren't shagging, although they wished they were, they had done as John said, and were waiting. Of course, that part wasn't said. All that was said was that they weren't having sex.

They had purposefully avoided talking about that with their mothers anyway. They felt it would get awkward, so they avoided that at all costs.

* * *

Sherlock was sitting against the headboard, moaning and John was beside him, his hand on Sherlock's thigh. _This will be fucking funny… _that was when Mycroft walked in and he saw that, and he was speechless, "Dearest brother, what are you doing?!" he was suddenly furious.

John couldn't hold it, he was laughing so hard at Mycroft's face and Sherlock joined, "I wasn't," he breathed and wiped a tear from his eye, "I wasn't doing anything. And maybe you shouldn't just walk in. We could have actually been at it, you know," Mycroft's eyes widened and he stiffened.

"Just be glad we weren't, it would have been so-" and John was cut off by a door shutting and they looked to each other and laughed again. That was the best prank they could have ever pulled on his older brother.

Mycroft hated that they were together now, and they pulled the most childish of pranks on him. Then afterwards they claimed they were trying to include him in a way that was fucking funny. He didn't like it either way.

Sherlock and John had finally settled when John noticed that he hadn't moved his hand from Sherlock's thigh. Sherlock glanced at it, but he decided to ignore it, "I hope you know," it slid further up, "that you will submit first," John said in a low but defined voice.

It was almost touching Sherlock's groin, but he ignored the hand, "Gladly. But as you said, I'll be the FIRST to submit," he grinned a wicked grin at John.

"Get your ass over here," he pulled Sherlock into his lap and leaned back on the headboard as he kissed Sherlock's neck and his hands pushed up under Sherlock's band tee. This time, the moan he let escape was very real and very quiet.

John sunk into the covers and pulled Sherlock down with him as his hands never left the chest of the panting_ detective_. He pushed his face in the pillows as he bit into Sherlock's neck. It didn't leave a mark, but John kissed there afterwards anyway.

He flipped the burnet to face him and kissed him hard and fast before Sherlock brought him back down and his tongue rushed out to meet John's. John slid his tongue into Sherlock's mouth and forced him to surrender under his touch.

But Sherlock pushed him off and tortured, "We have to wait, remember?" throwing John's words back at him. John huffed and plopped down into the pillows, breathing heavily.

He sighed, "I know. But it's hard because you're so perfect and so," _mine, _"just, touchable. And you give the best reactions," he teased.

"I know. I can tell you like it, too," he nuzzled into John's neck when they heard someone scream from downstairs… : )

* * *

**Never said what type of scream... did I? Anyway, reviews? Suggestions? : D**


	12. Confusion

Just One More Night of Flesh: Confusion

Sherlock and John heard the scream the ripped through the house, and then laughing. They had jumped up and were now confused. They ran down that stairs and looked to find their mothers rolling on the floor, quite literally, laughing.

Mycroft was smiling and looked at the confused men at the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock tilted his head and John raised one eyebrow. John's mum finally stood and helped up Sherlock's mum as they settled on the couch.

"I have to say Jane, that was the best scream I've heard in ages," John's mum complimented.

Jane laughed briefly again before putting her hand on John's mum's shoulder, "I tried my best, Catherine," and they burst into a fit of giggles again.

"No offense, Mum," Sherlock said, "but you sound like a bunch of teens." He popped his hip in irritation again and John made him stop by grabbing it and pulling him to John's side.

Mycroft spoke softly, "I told them about your little prank, earlier. They decided to pull one themselves. It's only fair," Mycroft grinned.

"The game is on!" John announced. And everyone but Mycroft broke out into fits of laughter. He also knew from then on, that pranks and tricks would be played all over the house, and he was a bit irritated at that. But the look on Sherlock's face was so worth it.

He's always saying about 'deduce now and ask questions later', but what had he done? He assumed, and John teased him by saying, "'Assume', it is literally spelled: Ass U Me, and that should make you think next time," he pressed his finger to Sherlock's forehead and Sherlock pouted as he stomped up to his room.

John followed and found Sherlock face in his pillows and his ass sticking up in the air. He looked like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

John sat beside his figure and Sherlock latched onto him, growling in sexual frustration. He kissed John and slipped his tongue over John's lips. _I think he has a licking fetish. He loves tongue, no matter where it is on his body. Then again, he seems to like it when I bite him. Maybe he likes both. I'll have to find out… _

Sherlock tasted John and was glad the door was closed as Sherlock moaned and it vibrated from him into John and he was starting to get aroused. Sherlock could feel this in the kiss, he was that good with body language.

_God, no matter what I do, he gets slightly aroused. This is nice to know, but hard to make us wait any longer… I hope he knows what he's doing, because his hands on me feels so- oh God! _John had latched his mouth on Sherlock's neck and he was licking and biting, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to turn anyone on.

"John," Sherlock sighed, "We can't… we have to…" he tried, but he could barely pull the breaths through to say anything. John chuckled and let go.

He shrugged, "Sorry," he breathed into Sherlock's ear, "It's just so hard…" _I have a feeling he meant both him and this waiting thing… _John did. He loved using words and making them mean more than one thing.

Then John got the loveliest idea, and it was crazy enough, it might work. "What if we wait until tonight when everyone else is asleep and we can get off together. Technically we won't be touching each other, but it still gets rid of sexual frustration," John usefully suggested.

Sherlock nodded, "That could work, except…" he didn't want to say, it was too embarrassing.

"What? Sherlock, you have to tell me," he didn't really, but John wanted to know. "You started the sentence, you finish it," he demanded.

"I haven't touched myself in years. Not since I was twelve. And that was once, and," he added, "it wasn't even properly. So, I don't know anything," he looked to John, nervous of what he might say.

"You…?" he was confused. But then suggested, "I'll walk you through it, then. Step by step, and I'll be sure to take it slow," he promised.

Sherlock nodded, almost all the tension gone and John was back to normal. But Sherlock knew that tonight when they were alone, it would be a different story completely. "You think we could use the shower for… you know. It'll be easier, and we need one anyway," Sherlock suggested.

"Yeah, but I hope you know it'll be harder for me to control myself there," Sherlock nodded, giving a devilish grin and kissing him.

"I know," kiss, "but I'll be in the same rut," Sherlock admitted and they fell into a pattern of passionate kisses, making sure nothing sexual was said or done.

* * *

It was easy enough to slip out of Sherlock's room and into the bathroom next to it, and it was easy to jump in the shower and let the water slide over them. But it was hard to not touch each other; other than their linked fingers. But even then, they had to let go. It was too much, they could only look at each other and it sucked, but this was the price they had to pay.

John was especially surprised by the sight of Sherlock. He was beautiful everywhere, and now that he knew this, it was even harder for him not to reach out and touch his lover. But John was also amazing. Sherlock was definitely fascinated, and wanted to stroke his lovely tan skin.

They caught each other staring and a blush creeped out over both of them, both from embarrassment and arousal. They couldn't help it, just the sight of someone so delicious made them almost drool.

"So, is this going to happen?" John asked, in a low voice Sherlock recognized as his sexually frustrated one.

Sherlock's hand was resting on his abdomen as John took the hint and did the same, "I'll follow, just… be gentle," Sherlock's voice was more high pitched, and John loved it, it happened every time he had a hard on. That much he knew about Sherlock.

They leaned against the shower wall and as the hiss of the water took the silence, and they were shoulder to shoulder and John's hand crept slowly down as he watched Sherlock's eyes. But Sherlock's eyes were nervously on John's hand.

The blond's fingers ghosted over his shaft and he watched Sherlock do the same, and a shiver broke over him, despite the warm water. John was used to and liked this, but Sherlock wasn't used to any of it. So, he had to take this slower than usual, which would draw everything out longer, but he didn't care. He was pleasing Sherlock without actually touching him and that felt amazing.

That was when his fingers came back down to the base of his member and Sherlock once again followed and hissed in pleasure. But he kept watching John's hand as his fingers traced over his bollocks and Sherlock just kept following. _Is this how this will always be? I follow my little soldier anywhere no matter what? _ This thought pleasured Sherlock's heart. He would always be there for John, no matter what.

John decided to wrap his fingers lightly around his shaft and Sherlock followed, making sure not to grip too hard, because then he wouldn't really be following, now would he? John pumped once, slowly, and when Sherlock did the same, he moaned.

John could see that Sherlock really wasn't used to this and was already leaking with pre- ejaculate. But this didn't stop John from pumping a second time, a little faster. Then his hands left his groin completely and he traced circles over his navel, just so Sherlock would follow, because that was what he wanted to do to him right now.

The back of his fingers brushed against his member again and he and Sherlock shared a moan, their eyes locked and John could see the longing. The lust twisted into the grayish blue and it was captivating, he had to admit.

But his eyes went back to Sherlock's hands and John placed his other on his chest, and while Sherlock followed they both imagined that this was one another and not themselves. John's fingertips brushed over his nipple and Sherlock did the same, whimpering in desire.

John smiled as the hand on his belly moved back down and pumped again on his member, a little faster this time and once, twice, and on the third, Sherlock's body gave up and he came moaning quietly but John swore he heard his name in there somewhere.

A few more quick pumps and John joined his lover, making sure he could hear it when Sherlock's name was uttered. That alone almost made Sherlock hard again. Luckily it didn't.

That was when John grabbed the soap, and making sure he didn't touch Sherlock's groin area at all, he cleaned himself and his lover. Sherlock was grateful because he could barely move. His legs were stones as he tried to move.

When he tried, he couldn't and instead, fell into John who caught him and set him down on the edge of the tub, "I'm sorry. I just…" John shushed him with a finger.

John didn't let Sherlock finish, "It's fine. It's all fine," and he kissed him before finishing the shower, (helping Sherlock fucking clean himself. He was so helpless, and John loved that he could make him like that without even touching him), and slipping into PJs and they were in bed before anyone else could have noticed.

John curled into Sherlock as he dominated John's body with his own. _That's how this is going to be then?,_ Sherlock thought, _you take dominance in shagging and I wrap myself around you as if I'm the dominant one. Confusing, but I like it. There you go again, John, just confusing people, but making them love you at the same time… _

John stiffened when he heard all this and Sherlock just realized he had actually said that out loud. His mind was still a little woozy and apparently, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Sherlock, that's… if you want it to be that way, I guess that's how this is working out, though, isn't it?" he asked.

Sherlock nodded against John's shoulder, and his curls tickled his neck, "I guess so. But I don't give a shit. I can give a fuck if you like," he teased.

"Down, tiger. You have to wait," John's fingers slipped into Sherlock's and they fell asleep like this. Just silently making dirty comments in each other's ears until they were too exhausted to care what the other was saying… : )

* * *

**Just a little smut... I hope you liked ;). Reviews? Suggestions? Desperately trying to please the audience here... : ) **


	13. Saturday

Just One More Night of Flesh: Saturday

Sherlock woke to John snoring lightly under him and he smiled, trying not to laugh at the noises he was making. Instead he just snuggled into John's neck and John stirred, "You snore," Sherlock giggled.

"What?" he tried to get moisture back to his mouth, and succeeded and could finally talk, "I what?"

"You. Snore," Sherlock repeated. "But it's cute," Sherlock smiled again. He kissed John briefly as they remembered what had happened last night. "So," Sherlock drew their attention back to here and now, "Want to get breakfast and walk around for a while? I'm bored," he complained.

John laughed and he sat up, "Yeah. That sounds lovely," he kissed the bridge of Sherlock's nose and pulled himself out of bed, "Come on, lazy," he pulled Sherlock out from under the covers and he collapsed onto his knees in front of John, yawning. "Oh no, not yet," he laughed again and pulled Sherlock to his feet.

Sherlock smiled at him awkwardly and they raced down the stairs as Sherlock took John's usual spot at the table. He stuck his tongue out at John, and knowing Jane wasn't looking at the moment, he licked Sherlock's tongue and sat on him, "This is my chair. You should move," John demanded.

"No," he defied John's order.

"Fine," and he took Sherlock's spot and this made Sherlock to the right of John. It felt different and weird, but he didn't care as Jane set down eggs and bacon, with a glass of orange juice. They scarfed down their food and were immediately asking to go out.

"Alright, be back before dark," she said. That was a long time, but Jane had a feeling they would be back in a few hours anyway.

They rushed upstairs and got dressed as quickly as possible and staring, but not intruding. John had brought clothes with him these past few times he stayed with Sherlock, and he was glad for it because he was tired of having to return his clothes all the fucking time.

And Sherlock was right, John had band tees because he wore them on the weekend. He was even wearing this pair of jeans that looked like skinny jeans, but really weren't, and they had patches of leather on the thighs and knees. But they made his ass pop as if he was wearing skinny jeans.

Sherlock was pulling his beanie over his curls as John snatched it from him. Sherlock was surprised at first, his mouth in an O shape, and then stomped the floor like a four year old, "Give it back!" he demanded.

"And if I don't?" John tempted. Sherlock didn't even reply, all he did was pout, "Want it back?" John asked, waving it in front of him, Sherlock simply nodded and his bottom lip protruded from his under his upper V shaped one and John pulled the beanie down over his face, "There," he laughed.

Sherlock fixed it and John was tempted to take it again, but didn't. Instead he took Sherlock's hand and they walked out the door, down the stairs and to the sidewalk in front of Sherlock's home.

"Where do we go first?" Sherlock asked as they randomly took footsteps. John shrugged, "I need more data than that, John," he complained.

"Fine, what about the park. I like the garden there," and Sherlock could deal with that.

"That's better," he gave a sideways glance to John as he said in addition, "Plus, if we do it right, we can snog in the flowers," he said low enough for John to pick up but only if he strained to hear.

He nudged his arm with his own, "I heard that. And yeah, that would be nice," he admitted. Sherlock blushed barely enough to even be caught and John smiled lovingly and the burnet was swooning. It was a strange feeling that he should be used to, but he surprisingly wasn't.

But Sherlock shot John a look that made the butterflies jump up and through his throat where a lump was formed and he couldn't speak, even if he wanted to. They just leaned into one another as they reached the park and in the middle of the garden, there was a bench, hidden from the rest of the world.

They settled on this abandoned piece of wood and leaned into each other as the random person passed by every once in a while. John thought he might look strange, sitting by a man dressed as a sexy Goth, without all the make-up, but still. He had never thought he would have a person who dressed like this.

Yes, John dressed similarly, but his was more lazy. He just wore jeans and a band tee because it was comfortable. But Sherlock went all out, skinny jeans and everything. He said he liked it, though, which was what made John even more attracted to him.

He did what he wanted and he didn't give a flying fuck if you disapproved. John was more self conscious, he cared what other people would think, which was what Sherlock addressed, "Why don't you dress like this at school?" he gestured to John.

"Because, it seems unprofessional. I'm not going to lecture you on it, but I've always been the more professional type. I'm still lazy, but I make it look like I try," he explained. "I honestly don't know why. Why do you dress like that?" he gestured to Sherlock.

"As I said, I don't give a shit what other people think," he said simply, as he did the first time John asked.

"You never cease to amaze me," John admitted to the younger man leaning on him now. Sherlock waved a hand dismissively and cuddled up into John further, humming as he did so. John recognized it, and he instantly went digging in Sherlock's pockets for his phone.

Sherlock jumped at first, _Whoa, down John! Oh! Haha… _he found what he was looking for and plugged his own headphones he had dug out of his pocket into it and handed Sherlock one as he guessed the code and was in, "Not very difficult," John pointed out.

"That's the point. Mycroft can't get into it if he thinks it's something complicated," Sherlock had a smug smile playing over his lips as John picked out the music. Evanescence, with Bring Me To Life, _I love you, John… _but he didn't have the bollocks to say it out loud.

John wanted to say it as well, but he was waiting for the talent show. _Sherlock will be so surprised he'll have to say it back .Right? _he didn't know, but he was going to do it then anyway.

All their thoughts were interrupted as someone unexpected walked into their circle of flowers, "Sherlock? John? Hi!"

"Sally! Hi," Sherlock couldn't sound more sarcastic. John punched him lightly and looked at her over Sherlock's head buried in his neck.

"Hey, Sally. He's still being a dick, but hey," he tried to be cheerful, despite Sherlock's attitude. She sat down by John, and she was still wearing some kind of skirt and a blouse. _Girly girl, ugh. _

"Oh, it's fine. I think I like you more anyway," she looked John over and was surprised that he was dressed in such a way, "What's with this?" she pulled on his shirt.

"Oh, it's my weekend stuff. I like this kind of thing," he pointed to the text that said: Falling In Reverse. "I just don't wear it to school," John explained.

She nodded, "Oh. Well, I've got to get home, so I'll see you tomorrow," she said and she was gone and they were alone again.

"Sherlock, did you really have to do that?" he asked.

"Yes, I told you, I don't like her. She reminds me of Anderson. It's creepy and she's promiscuous," Sherlock shuttered.

"You really are a stupid git," John said as if he was just realizing this.

Sherlock shrugged, "You don't seem to mind," he teased. He was right, John didn't mind. He just shrugged as he made Sherlock look him in the eyes. He presses his lips to Sherlock temple and strokes his cheek with his thumb.

Then John's other hand snaked from behind Sherlock and swiped his beanie again. Sherlock saw this and he started to pout again. But then he just decided to climb on top of John and make him give it back, "No," John defied his pleas.

"Please. Do I have to lick you?" John was confused as he laughed. But Sherlock took to licking John's lips, and John shut up, "Gimme," John shook his head. He then left a long line a saliva on John's throat, "Give," lick, "me," lick, and he felt John shutter under him. But he still defied.

But what John did do, was pull him into a kiss and slipped the beanie under Sherlock's pants and groped. Sherlock jumped up and pulled the black thing he loved so much from his pants, "Thank you," he smiled smugly.

"Don't think it didn't come with a price," John grinned and was on top of Sherlock in seconds, but they fell and Sherlock was still on the bottom as the beanie was long forgotten over there somewhere.

"Do what you like, just not me," he licked his lips and he knew it would get to John. Well, it would have, if John was paying attention. But he was staring at something behind Sherlock and he couldn't see.

"John! Get up off that boy! Stand at attention!" he heard a male voice boom out over their flowers.

John obeyed and was standing straight up with his arms at his sides, his hands bunched in fists and his thumbs aligned with the seam of his jeans. Sherlock finally scrambled to his feet, grabbing his black mess of a beanie, _Oh!, it's covered in grass! _But he shoved it in his pocket as he observed the man standing in front of them.

John seemed to respect him, "At ease, soldier," he said in a soft voice. Then he strode up and hugged John, and Sherlock saw Catherine join them. Sherlock looked her over, she'd been crying. But why?

What was going on that he didn't know about?! He stomped his foot in irritation as he went back through his mind palace quickly and still found nothing. Who was this man? Why was John hugging him?

* * *

Jane and Catherine were chatting in the living room, beside the fireplace, and Cathy was at first nervous to have a wealthy woman into her home, but she found that Jane didn't care how small the home was. It was the look of it that impressed her.

"So, if Sherlock and John are out, where's Mycroft?" Cathy had asked.

"Oh, he's got a new job lately. He has a minor position in the British Government. He doesn't like to brag, but he's getting good money to do what he loves," she said to answer the good question.

"Sounds lovely," Cathy answered, "My job is lovable, but sometimes I get the most stubborn of patients-"

"Patients?" Jane stopped her short to ask.

"Oh, guess I hadn't told you, I'm a doctor. But anyway, I get the most stubborn of patients and sometimes they just stress me out to no end," she admitted and Jane nodded in agreement. She could only imagine how difficult it was to live almost three years without her husband to help support such a well mannered son.

"So, how does John take your busy schedule?" she had to ask.

"Oh, John's such a sweet boy. He makes me food sometimes and I swear he's a better cook than I. but he gets that from his father. Anthony was always good with a spatula and a pan," she almost cried at the memory of him in the kitchen, flipping pancakes and pouring strange seasonings into something that it didn't seem to belong in, and yet it came out perfect every time.

Jane was about to ask another question when there was a knock at the door, "Is it John?" she asked instead.

Cathy shook her head, "No, he usually just walks in. but I wasn't expecting anyone but you…" she opened the door to find this man.

Tears fell from her brown eyes as she recognized him, every feature and every tone of his voice as he said, "Cathy, I'm so sorry. I-" he was cut off by her hugging him and sobbing into his shoulder. Jane was confused until she realized where she had seen this man.

She instantly felt happiness for her friend.

* * *

Jane walked out as well and Sherlock started piecing this together. He actually thought about this and

he found it. He had seen this man before. _Oh! My! God! _He finally knew who this was… : )

* * *

**Haha! Now you have to wait to know for sure who it is! But the next chapter will be up in a short while. So, reviews? Suggestions? **


	14. Surprise!

Just One More Night of Flesh: Surprise!

Sherlock stood, dumbstruck for a moment, but he then realized who this man hugging his boyfriend was. This was his father. Somehow, he had survived the war he was thrown into, and was here. Then Sherlock saw it, there in his eyes, was the hurt of a tortured man.

He walked up behind John and placed his hand on the small of his shaking back, he rubbed the spot he placed his hand, and John was still shaking as he let go of his father and latched onto Sherlock, "He's alive." He was sobbing and as tears hit Sherlock's shoulder, his arms were wrapped around John in an instant.

Sherlock smiled as Anthony looked at Sherlock with his blue eyes, and Sherlock saw that that was where John got his beautiful eyes. They had the same look about them, too. As if you could instantly trust the man behind them, no questions asked. And Sherlock did.

John finally composed himself as Cathy's arm was put around Anthony's hips and surprisingly John did the same to Sherlock, "Who is this, then?" Anthony's low but soft voice asked his blond son.

Sherlock looked the burnet over and decided he was as amazing as John was, in every sense. John held his hand to Sherlock's shoulder as he stated, "Sherlock Holmes, he's a little strange, but he's lovable," John assured the man in front of him with his mum attached to his hip, literally.

Jane felt out of the loop, but she would have her beloved soon enough. She wanted him here, now though. She wanted his big arms to hold her, but she'll have to wait until Friday.

Her attention went back to the scene in front of her, "So, how's school been?" Anthony asked.

John replied, "Hell, but lately it's been getting better, especially with a detective attached to you," he complimented Sherlock.

"Detective?" he was confused as Anthony stared at Sherlock, and he looked more Goth than anything.

"Show him, Sherlock. Nothing too mean, now mind you," John warned and waited for that lovely low voice to pull something from his father.

Sherlock put his hands behind his back and paced as he deduced the things he could see, "Obviously military service. You had a desk job until they sent you off to war. Which afterwards you were promoted twice to Captain. Then there was the last deployment you were sent on, and you went M.I.A, they assumed you dead after a year of searching," Anthony was surprised by this, "you were obviously… " he struggled for other words besides 'tortured', "alive, but not well. And when you were freed, some soldiers found you after you had murdered your captors and a few others escaped with you. Good?" he looked to John for approval.

"I- um, yeah. That was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary," he held Sherlock tighter as Anthony's eyes were still shocked and Sherlock smiled.

He recovered, "How do you even begin to… never mind. Just, I'll let that be a mystery. Anyway, who's up for dinner?" Anthony held Cathy tight and smiled down on her as she grinned.

She spoke, "I've missed you so much you have no idea," she admitted.

He kissed her, "I think I do," he smiled, "did you miss my food, too?"

"Oh, God yes," Cathy joined John in saying this and they laughed.

* * *

Anthony's food was amazingly delicious. Sherlock asked for more and John was surprised. "You don't usually eat a lot, Sherlock," he chuckled.

"That was before your father was cooking, I can see where you get it from, by the way," he winked and stuffed more in his mouth. Cathy smiled and Anthony grinned. Jane just quietly ate and was also surprised at Sherlock for asking for more.

Mycroft simply sat in silence. He didn't ask for more, though he wanted it, but he just sat and watch his brother and his boyfriend, _Does his father know? I hope so. It'd be awkward if he didn't and got pissed… _

_There's something about this boy that John notices that I don't. why does he keep staring at his lips and his curls? Does he like this boy more than he's letting me know? Well, he was holding him in a suspicious way earlier, but I didn't really think anything of it. And the way he stares at John, it just… I'll have to ask my boy about that. I don't mind, I just want to know. _Anthony's thoughts darted everywhere that evening.

He still had a little anxiety poking out and Sherlock noted this, never said a thing, but just took mental notes on John's father.

* * *

Once everyone was full and no one could eat anymore, they decided to sit down and watch a movie, as a family, once again. Mycroft and Jane had left, but Sherlock insisted on staying. This struck Anthony as odd, so he pulled John off to the side as Jane was deciding on what to pop in first.

"Do you like that boy? More than just a friend?" he eyed his little soldier.

John was nervous, "Well, I… don't be mad at me," he begged, "but I'm dating Sherlock and I think I'm in love with him…" he almost had tears.

"Why would I be mad?" Anthony asked, genuinely confused at his son's reaction to this question. He pulled him into a death grip of a hug, "I love my little boy no matter who else he loves. Let it be a man or a woman, hell," he laughed, "it could be a woman with a penis, I don't care. As long as my boy is happy, so am I," John laughed at that.

"A woman with a penis, huh?" Anthony nodded and laughter filled the uneasy air around them. "So," John finally settled, "you're not mad that I'm bisexual? I just thought-"

"I could never hate you for a life decision," he promised. When they finally settled on the couch, John cuddled into Sherlock. He was shocked and looked to Anthony snuggling with Cathy, he smiled at the shock on Sherlock's face.

He recovered quickly and smiled as he accepted John's arms around him.

* * *

John stood outside his bedroom door, while Sherlock dressed on PJs, in front of his father, "I really thought you'd be pissed and throw me out," John admitted

"No," he shook his head while they heard a grunt come from John's room.

"Sherlock?" John asked. They heard and 'I'm fine' and John went back to his father's eyes, "So, are you coming to the talent show?" John asked. He had told his father all about it and how Sherlock and him were going to sing the best song in the history of them (because he was singing with Sherlock), and on and on.

Anthony nodded, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. God, I just can't believe my boy is out of school next year," he ruffled John's hair.

"Well, out of high school. Afterwards I'll be going to uni and that will be fantastic," he said sarcastically.

"Your mum tells me you're joining the Army, like your old man," Anthony said.

"Yeah," he blushed slightly, "I figured if you could do it, I could at least try, right?" they laughed as Anthony hugged the son he never believed he would see again and headed off to Cathy's room. John burst through the door to find Sherlock leaning his shoulders on the headboard and one leg was up in the air, resting on the other.

But the funniest thing about this, was the fact that he was only wearing black pant that didn't hide very much, and his hands were behind his head as if he was relaxing and watching TV. John closed the door and arched his eyebrow at Sherlock.

Sherlock grinned, "Hi, John. Would you join me?" he patted the spot on the bed next to him, and John turned the lights out, not saying a thing, just dressing in pajamas, climbing under the covers, and facing away from Sherlock, smiling.

Sherlock sunk under the covers and grabbed John from behind, "Sherlock?" John asked innocently. Sherlock hummed as his curls tickled John's ear, "Why are you suck an asscake?" he asked.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Well, I do, but…" John faced him and put a finger to his lips. He shut up as the finger was replaced with a kiss, "Waiting sucks," he complained.

"That's why I'm glad it isn't that far away," John said simply and he was kissing Sherlock again.

* * *

Sherlock woke first, again, and John was snoring, but amidst this noise, he seemed to be mumbling something and he was shaking and blushing. Sherlock heard his name and 'Fuck!' and he was surprised. So much so, that he fell out of John's bed with a thud and an 'Ow!'

John stirred and looked over the edge of the bed, "Sherlock?" he was panting slightly. "Are you alright?" he mumbled and his breathing was getting steady as the dream was fading.

"Yeah," he stood and John's erection hadn't faded completely, but he was trying not to come right then and there with Sherlock wearing those tight pants. "But you seem to be struggling," he smirked and popped his hip in thought.

"Shut up! I am not!" he rolled over and by now he was normal but he was still blushing of embarrassment. Sherlock simply laughed and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Come on, John," he teased as he rolled back and leaned into John's back, which was still facing Sherlock. "You obviously have some fantasies, so do I, as a matter of fact. It's okay, because soon they get to come true…"

He tried to sit up, but John pulled his hair and his head landed in John's lap, "Oh, hell yes," and he bent over Sherlock's chest, licking softly. Sherlock's back arched and it only gave John better access. The burnet moaned and the blond hummed into Sherlock's pectorals.

Then they realized their surroundings and stopped getting aroused at each other's actions. Sherlock still kissed his little soldier, but then he had to get dressed. But as he pulled his beanie over his curls, it was swiped again by a fully clothed John and he was running down the stairs, and to the kitchen.

There he found his father and his mother already cooking, he blushed and laughed as he heard Sherlock yell at him to give it back and he heard stomping down the stairs. But he met Sherlock halfway down the stairs, and shoved the beanie down the front of his pants, "Reach for it, then," he tempted.

Sherlock looked nervous, but then he didn't care as he reached down John's pants and pulled out the black and loved so much hat. John grinned, "You had your hands down my pants, how did that feel?"

"Shut up," but John pulled the hat over that sour face. but the face that came back out was pissed. John could see this and grinned, but Sherlock lunged for him playfully and John ran circles around the kitchen table as Cathy was laughing. Anthony kept cooking, but could tell the chase was on.

John stopped and Sherlock stopped as well, but seeing the look on his face made John laughed even more. Sherlock didn't like this and tried to grab John. John would have escaped but his dad was right there and he had to stop as Sherlock grabbed his shirt and his hips were in Sherlock's arms and John blushed as Anthony laughed.

Sherlock snuggled into John as he tried to break free, "Apologize," Sherlock demanded.

"For what? Making you run 'round and 'round and circles and getting pissed?" John laughed again, but briefly as Sherlock ground into the small of his back.

"Apologize," he demanded again.

"Haha, sorry for pissing you off? Clot pole," and John was running again, this time out the front door and round to the yard behind the house. Sherlock followed and growled.

He picked up his pace and grabbed John as they both fell. Sherlock straddled John between his thighs, "That wasn't very nice, was it, John?" he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"Nope, but neither are you," and he sat up, "but you're not just any asshole, you're my asshole and I think it's funny to insult you properly," he pecked the side of Sherlock's pouting mouth with his own lips.

Sherlock's pressed his hands to John's chest and his eyes were wild as his lips were attacking John's… : )

* * *

**Surprise! It was John's dad! Now there's the talent show... Wonder what could happen... : ) In the meantime, reviews? Suggestions? **


	15. Talent

Just One More Night of Flesh: Talent

Today was the day, the day Sherlock and John had been practicing for and the day that would determine just how good they really were. "But they are so many other talents, Sherlock. How will we compete with that?" he pointed to the kid who had swallowed a whole banana as if he was in a fucking circus.

"Really, John. We'll be fine. I know we'll at least place. I want to win, but I know you just want to place, and that we will definitely do," he whispered reassurance to John as their names were called. Sherlock peeked out from behind the curtain as they announced the talent and the song and everything.

He was happy when he saw his father sitting beside his mum and John's parents. Mycroft had decided not to come. Sherlock wasn't nervous, he'd sung in front of people before. But John was shaking, "John," he put his hand to the blond's shoulder, "It's no different than on the bus, or walking around in the neighborhood or walking in the school. It's no different, stop being so stupid."

That insult set John off and he quit shaking. Sherlock latched onto his wrist and pulled him from behind the curtain, but once they were in front of everyone, he let go as they took their places. But you see, John wasn't nervous because of the singing, he was nervous about what people would say.

They had prepared a little bit of dance as well, and they had split the lyrics amongst themselves and made it a duet, that way they could make motions at each other. The people setting up the stage put microphones to their shirts so that they could move about easily.

But John then realized that Sherlock was right, and he now knew he wasn't talking about the singing when he said this wasn't any different than being out and about with his boyfriend. This was only a further display of his affections for Sherlock, and that was what made him stop being nervous altogether.

He looked amongst the people and saw his parents and smiled warmly as his heartbeat settled. Sort of, it was still racing as the music started, but that was because Sherlock was giving him the sexiest look ever.

(That reminds me, they weren't dressed as they usually were. Sherlock's hair was slicked back on one side and he was wearing more sexy stuff. Like a purple flannel and sexy skinnies that were midnight black and hugged him in just the right way. He wore his Converse and such, but his beanie was gone and he had just the tiniest bit of his chest poking out of his unbuttoned by three shirt.

John was wearing almost the same, though. He was wearing the same colour of shirt, but the trousers that belonged to a suit and he had parted his hair to the side instead of letting it do its usual thing of hanging on his forehead. And Sherlock had to say, that the trousers did wonders for his figure (his ass) and Sherlock liked it. Just had to add all of that… sorry, : D ).

Sherlock gave John his sexy look and John returned it as the lyrics hit their voices and they looked over the crowd, mainly their families. John wished Harry was here, but he just focused on the lyrics flowing over them and they took the stances they had practiced.

The one John had hesitated on was the one with them holding hands and 'looking out over the rooftops' as their hand spread over the crowd.

But it was over in short three minutes and Sherlock gave John his 'I told you so' look as they bowed and left the stage, the crowd going wild and even some of them screamed. The people behind the curtain took the mics from their shirts and patted them on the back, as they panted and reached for the water that Sherlock had brought.

John had complained he wouldn't need it, but he definitely did. Sherlock gave a smug smile as John swiped it from his hand and chugged. Luckily they were the last ones to go, so the judges had a choice to make and it would be announced on Monday. They couldn't wait to see if Mary and her dance would place. Or maybe Sebastian with his poetry reading. John had to admit that if he wasn't dating and loving Sherlock, he would have had Sebastian by now.

But he was dating and loving Sherlock, and that was what stopped him from doing a lot of things he would have regretted. "You're too good for me," John admitted after his breath was steady and his heart had settled.

"No, I'm not. I'm just right for you," Sherlock said, being a smart arse, as usual. John rolled his eyes and despite the crowd behind the curtains with them, he kissed his lover.

"Sherlock um, I have something to say that might… uhm. It's just…" how could he tell him? This would make things even more difficult, but he just had to say what had been on the tip of his tongue for agonizing weeks. He finally brought himself to say it, as Sherlock had joined him in unison, "I love you," and John smiled at the fact that they were thinking the same thing.

"You too, huh?" Sherlock had asked. John blushed just barely and Sherlock ruffled his hair as John glared at him, "Don't pretend you don't like my fingers in your hair," he meant it both ways, yes. _Such an arse, but so lovable… _

They heard the host of the show announce the end and all the performers were out on the stage as the crowd went wild again. All the parents held back as the students thanked the performers for the show, especially Mary, Sherlock and John. Sherlock gave John a wink as some chics started hitting on him.

He just laughed nervously and pushed them away. And when everyone was gone, the parents took over and the teens, one by one, were gone. And amongst those teens were Sherlock and John. But before they had a chance to leave, the choir teacher stopped them, "Sherlock Holmes and John Watson! Hey!"

He shook their hands, "I'm Mr. Tate. I like your singing and next semester, don't be surprised if you are thrown into my class. But, just wanted to meet and greet, and tell you that you were wonderful! Chao!" and they were free to go.

They did, gladly and as they all loaded into the car, "So, was that a nice surprise, Father?" Sherlock asked Sybil, his father.

John was beside Sherlock as his mother squished in beside them, and Sybil simply said, "Yes, it was quite brilliant, really," almost as if he was waiting to discuss something with Sherlock. John smiled and Sherlock studied his father. _Bloody fucking brilliant! He's going to have a 'long talk' with me later and I'm afraid it's about John and I. Great . _

But John decided to keep up their schedule with the weekend and he was staying at Sherlock's tonight, no matter what. He had other things to say and ask his lover. 'I love you,' was just the beginning. There was so much more and Sherlock could see that, too. _Sigh, too many words and too little time._

* * *

It ended in an argument between Sherlock and his father, "I will love whoever the hell I want! You can't change this! You can't change me!"

Sybil glared at his son, "How could you fall in love with a man?! I mean, a man! Didn't I raise you better?!"

"You raised me to follow my heart, what do you think I'm doing?" he asked a little quieter.

At this, Sybil dropped his anger, "You what?"

"I love him, I love John, and it's what my head says and what my heart beats for," he was getting quieter as his point was being made, "If you take me from John, I will die. Not by suicide, from heartbrake. I swear, I questioned it, too. When I started crushing on him, I thought it was wrong, but…" he didn't have an excuse except, "he got to me. He's not like everyone else. He doesn't call me a freak or push me away because I deduced something he doesn't like. He treats me like you treated Mum, with endless love and endearment. It would brake me to have that ripped away because he's the same gender as I am," he explained carefully.

"I see," Sybil started to understand Sherlock's situation. "Are you sure this won't turn out the same way it did with Jim?"

Sherlock smiled slightly, "Did you see the performance tonight? This will definitely not end the same way it did with Jim. As a matter of fact, I don't intend for it to end. I want it to stay forever and always. Please don't make him leave me," Sherlock begged. _He's never begged before, John has really changed this boy, and in ways I couldn't… damn. _

"Alright," Sherlock's smile went to a grin, "but when this ends in a bad way, don't cry to me," he warned, but then held his arms out for an apology hug. Sherlock accepted, "You need a shower," Sybil complained.

Sherlock laughed, "I know, I was about to do that," Sherlock said as he let go.

"Hurry up and then join us for dinner," he said.

John was already done with the shower and Sherlock took after him. John was sexy with wet hair, and Sherlock couldn't help but to tap his ass when he walked by. John glared but Sherlock winked. They both chuckled lightly as John shook his head.

* * *

"Sorry if I'm a problem," John apologized through bites of food. Sybil tilted his head in confusion as Jane's eyes widened and she almost dropped her fork.

"You are not a problem," Sherlock started, but he was cut off by his father clearing his throat.

"I guess you heard the argument?" John nodded and poked nervously at his food, "Let me just say that I think you're a sweet man, and good for Sherlock, I just never thought it would be in such a… loving way. I'm sorry if I worried you. But you are the least of my worries, it's the outcome that I'm worried about," he admitted as food replaced his words and he swallowed and just kept eating in silence.

"I-" John started.

"John," Sherlock locked eyes with his lover, "you will never be a problem. Don't even go there. We all love you, me especially, just shut up and accept it. And for Christ's sake, eat," he demanded of his blond. He hadn't eaten much, just what he could stomach with the thought that he had caused trouble.

As John stuffed his face, "Besides," Jane started, "Sherlock's birthday is coming up, and I wouldn't want you to miss that, now would I?" she asked the rhetorical question.

"No, ma'am," John mumbled as much as he could manage.

She smiled and blushed as they finished off what everyone was capable of eating. Except for Sherlock of course, he ate as little as he could get away with. He wasn't particularly hungry.

He pushed his plate away as he excused himself and John from the table. He grabbed John's wrist and locked their fingers as he pulled him up the stairs that counted to thirty two. He pushed John into his room as he closed the door silently.

"Go ahead," Sherlock prompted.

"How do you mean?" John asked, confused.

"You have words for me, and I can see that they won't cheer me up, not even a little, tell me," he pushed John's hair from his face and embraced his hips and brought them close to try to make John more comfortable.

John's hand caressed Sherlock's cheek as he started, "I love you, that much you do at least know, right?" Sherlock nodded. "Well, I've. Um, I… I signed a contract, that when I graduate, I get sent to basic training. And I have to leave then. And I can't believe I didn't tell you before, but it just never came up and I figured I would tell you because you deserve to know that your love could possibly die after high school is barely out," he said.

"But," he continued, "I won't be gone forever, and I want us to keep in touch somehow. I love you, and distance won't change that," John explained to his disappointed lover.

"No, but death could change that," he complained.

"That," he started again, "is why I'm going to make the rest of this enjoyable and there will be no sour memories for you," he kissed Sherlock to assure this.

Sherlock sighed, "Okay. I just hope you know, that without you by my side, I'll go back to what I was before I met you. so if you come back to an asexual sociopath, don't be so surprised," Sherlock joked.

John squeezed Sherlock's hips and embraced him, "That's okay. I'll just change it again," John assured his lover.

"Sure," Sherlock said as he drew back and his lips caught John's, "God, I can't wait until the anniversary of my birth hits. I will fuck you senseless," he declared and before John could protest, Sherlock's lips slid onto John's and his tongue followed and John accepted this… : )

* * *

**I actually have no comments... I can't hint on anything because it will ruin the surprise, so, reviews? Can't really do suggestions anymore, this story is mine, and you will love, I know you will! : )**


	16. Yum

Just One More Night of Flesh: Yum

John sat on the park bench as he watched Mary and Sebastian shower Sherlock in conversation and giggles and the things that John honestly gave him all the time, but today was Sherlock's day. He deserved all that he wanted, and all that John was going to give him later. _Mmmm... _

He sat, finding himself remembering that Monday after the talent show, anticipation had captured his throat with a knot as they announced what Sherlock had wanted to hear. John and Sherlock had won first place and Mary had placed second. Disappointingly, Sebastian hadn't placed, which John had cussed at, but hey, it was life.

Sebastian was highly disappointed, but John had cheered him up. So had Sherlock, though, when he placed a huge wet kiss on Seb's cheek. John laughed as Seb had blushed. By the way, Seb is their nickname for him now, so whether he liked it or not (he didn't) head to deal with it.

John could smell the flowers around him as the wind whipped through his blond locks that had now grown to where they almost covered his eyebrows completely. He needed a haircut, but Sherlock liked it, and John had decided he would let it grow a little longer, then cut it short, just enough that it didn't irritate his eyes.

Sherlock looked back to John desperately and John shook his head and smiled as Sherlock ignored this and pulled John from the bench, "You're participating, whether you like it or not," Sherlock demanded.

John sighed, "I just love you demanding that I do as you please," he said sarcastically. Sherlock sat him down in between Mary and Seb, then sat on him.

"Don't get too used to it," he winked and John rolled his eyes. "John, please do try to enjoy today. I am, but if you're not I won't and I don't think our mums would be very happy with our foul moods," Sherlock pointed out.

"I'll be happy when I can touch you without anyone else around to see it," he admitted. John wanted to skip the cake and friends and just get to the part where John said he loved Sherlock and give him the physical contact they so craved. Ever since that one night in the shower, John has found it harder not to touch Sherlock.

But he hadn't. He had kept his promise and didn't even touch him to help get him off. There was only kissing and hopeless groping. And sometimes grinding, that didn't help anyone's case, but Sherlock was an idiot when it came to sexual tension. As in, he only made it worse.

But John loved him, nonetheless, and that was all he needed control himself. He told himself if he really loved Sherlock, he would wait until the right moment. And he was so sure that tonight would be the best time; it's birthday sex, who doesn't want such a thing?

John knew he loved sex, God, did he love it! But he loved Sherlock more, and that, was what Sherlock had realized and why, when sexual tension was an issue, he knew John would resolve it in a way that would make it feel good, but right, and no promises would be broken.

And in every way possible, John had resolved every problem they ran into. _He'll make the perfect soldier, my little soldier... _

Sherlock's heart was crushed when he had to think that John had to leave him, but it was bound to happen, and Sherlock knew that when that day came, he would let go, but barely. It scared him to think that he would be alone again. But he knew he would just retreat to his mind palace and find that sociopath and become what he dreamed of doing, sometimes literally.

He was going to the world's only consulting detective. He would have the police groveling before him, and he would only help with cases that interested him. But for now, he had John in his lap, and that was what he wanted now.

John looked around and found their parents socializing as ever. Cathy and Jane had taken it upon themselves to talk to Mary and Seb's mums, and the guys just leaned back and discussed whatever came to mind. but the mums, God they were embarrassing. They would look to one of the boys and then giggle about something. But all of this was ignored by everyone but John.

"John, where is your head?" Mary asked when he was just sitting quietly and listening to everything around himself. he shrugged. _I Honestly don't know. I just don't feel like talking. Sherlock's here and I'm just, whatever I guess..._

"Oh come one, John. Please tell me your still up for the beach later?" Seb asked. That was right, they were going to the beach later, weren't they? John had simply forgotten everything except for the fact that Sherlock had his hands on John's thigh and his chest.

"Yeah," he said slowly, focusing on that hand on his thigh, and wishing it was elsewhere. "Just, um," he snapped himself from his thoughts and finally smiled, "My head's just thinking about other things right now. Sherlock knows, don't you?" he nudged Sherlock with his elbow.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he laughed nervously, "Shut up, John. At least, don't speak like that," _Because I was thinking about the same thing, haha!_

"Like what?" he leaned down closer and whispered so that only Sherlock could hear him say, "Like you're mine and I'm going to do things to you that will make you come so hard you'll pass out," he teased.

There was a definite blush on Sherlock's cheeks and Mary and Seb laughed. Sherlock slapped John's thigh lightly, "Don't," was all he said on the matter.

but that was all before Cathy walked up behind Sherlock, "So, how does cake sound?" she shouted. Sherlock jumped and John almost fell as they all exclaimed that it would be great.

Jane brought a cake from out of the car and to the park table where they had set up. John longingly looked to the bench in the middle of the flowers. But he was pushed to Sherlock's side as the cake with eighteen candles sticking out of it. It seemed a little childish, but this was the last day that Sherlock could be considered a teen and this was what he wanted.

He wanted his few friends to be here, and for this to be his last childish day of his life. Which was why the cake was an ice-cream cake. Being childish didn't stop it from being delicious, though. Sherlock only ate one piece, though, despite its deliciousness.

John could have complained, but he wanted to just get to the beach and get to a beach house and... stuff. Plus, the beach sounds kind of fun, now. Sitting on the sand, having Sherlock wear swim trunks but still obsess over what music to play. Then later he'll complain about getting sand in his phone and John will distract him from everything else.

But this wasn't exactly how it went, of course.

* * *

They were in the sand, and Sherlock was fussing over music, and he was wearing purple swim trunks (they had declared that purple was the color of sex) and when he plopped his phone down in the sand, Mary was in a two piece with ruffles and Seb was still wearing a T-Shirt as they forced John and Sherlock up and into the waves of salt that were cold, but the air around them was hot as hell. how this was, no one knew.

All they knew was that they were somewhere foreign and it was perfect. the few hours on the plane were worth every second of this. even when it started getting dark it was still warm. although, by then, Mary and Seb had separated from Sherlock and John and Mary was flirting up a storm as Sherlock just laughed at that.

"What's so funny?" John had asked as he heard the adult chatter behind them.

"He doesn't like her like she likes him. He thinks of her as a sister, and not a potential girlfriend. as a matter of fact, I think he fancies me," they both laughed at that one.

but Seb and Mary decided they were going to retire and get some sleep before they had to fly out that morning. Sherlock and John said goodbye for the night and John's parents left as well. but they all knew why they had separate houses, and they all knew what was going on as Sherlock and John's parents left and told them to get to bed as quickly as possible so that sleep could be had.

They simply nodded and smiled at each other when they didn't move. Except to get on top of each other, and try to kiss one another. But both of them were teasing and it was getting very frustrating very fast.

That was when they decided that the walk back to their beach house was going to be a long one, so they wrapped their towels around one another and Sherlock slipped his phone back into his now dry trunks.

John took his hand, "So, feel like everything is perfect?" he asked as the sand squished beneath his feet.

"Somewhat," he admitted.

"Somewhat?" John was confused. There was a beach and everything, what could he possibly want now?

"Well, running around naked would have been more fun," he teased. John laughed and Sherlock chuckled.

"It would have been more fun if it was just us, then. parents being there and everything made it awkward, don't you think?" he asked his curly haired lover.

"Mm," he agreed with his sandy haired lover. "So," he changed the subject, "What rank do you want before you retire or possibly get out of the Army?" he had to ask.

"Well, I hope to achieve at least Captain before I get shot. with the way things are with America right now, I'll likely be sent to war straight after basic training. Somehow I know that I'll be one of those lucky bastards that gets an honorable discharge," he ran his hand through his hair.

Sherlock had no fucking idea what that was, "Honorable discharge?" he was confused.

"You know nothing, stupid git," he insulted before answering, "it's when you do something heroic or get injured to the point that you can't work to their standards anymore. Then they give you an honorable discharge," _idiot. I thought everyone knew that by now. _

"Well, I don't know much about the military yet. I've been meaning to study it, seeing as I'll need to know at least the basics of things," he admitted.

John shook his head, "Well, I've been 'studying' the military ways for a while now. Actually there isn't a time when I remember that I wasn't interested at least slightly in the Army. But you have your heart set on something bigger. Something I never imagined," he said, amazed. "Consulting detective," they both sighed.

"It's going to be fun ordering the police around when I'm just a civilian. They'll be so pissed, but they'll have to deal with me," he laughed and John smiled sideways at Sherlock's logic.

Honestly, Sherlock's dreams were far bigger than anyone John had ever met. He plans to first, invent a job, then make people respect it, and 'let' him help them. Really, John knew that any man would kill to have Sherlock's brain. "So, when I leave, will you delete my memory?" John had to ask.

"Of course not," they climbed the stairs to the house, "I'll just store it in hopes that we will one day meet again," he admitted.

John closed the door behind Sherlock and himself and he grabbed Sherlock's hips and made him come closer. he looked up, "So, I'll be there somewhere, just temporarily forgotten?"

"Something like that," he kissed him lightly, "you're unlike anyone I've ever met, I don't want to forget you," and he kissed him again... : )

* * *

**Warning! The next chapter is all smut! So, read with caution. And it will be up soon. But, for now, reviews? Please? :) **


	17. Noise

Just One More Night of Flesh: Noise

Sherlock pushed John to the door and his lips met John's in the dark they hadn't bothered to light. The taste of ice-cream and each other was overwhelming, so much so that Sherlock moaned and John grunted as he pushed Sherlock to the floor.

It hurt, but not as much as it would have if he had expected this force. Somehow, this violence turned him on like there was no tomorrow. If John did it right, Sherlock wouldn't even remember his own name, let alone that there was a tomorrow to look into.

He mouth was on Sherlock's neck, biting and licking and leaving territorial marks. Sherlock ground his groin into John's and now it was his turn to moan and growl as he reached Sherlock's collar bone.

He nipped at spots he knew would make his lover moan for more. And when he did, John shoved his hands to Sherlock shoulders as he rubbed himself against the burnet. The smell of John and the beach left Sherlock senseless, and he could only feel this man on top of him, feeling his skin and being greedy in feeling all over.

He hands travelled up Sherlock's sides and then back down again as he pulled Sherlock's trunks from his perfectly slim hips. John tortured him with kisses on his thighs and hips and anywhere that wasn't his member.

His lips rose to Sherlock's as his tongue was pressed past Sherlock's lips and into his mouth, exploring as the cloth of John's trunks on Sherlock's member reminded Sherlock that he had remove them or this was all the farther they were going to get.

He wanted it slow, but not this damn slow. He pulled the cloth slowly over John's thighs and John smirked as they hit the floor and Sherlock gasped at the fact that John was already completely hard and wanting Sherlock.

"Do I really turn you on that much?" he teased.

"Oh, God yes!" and he was rubbing them together again. Their members hit each other and they moaned as Sherlock pushed himself into John. But then he slipped from John's grip and pulled him to the bed closest to them. Like they were ever going to use the other one anyway.

He pressed John to the blanket and instantly explored his body with his tongue, teeth and hands. The feel of Sherlock's lips on his chest and stomach was torture when his cock was right fucking there.

But Sherlock fingers were magical as they were pressed to John's perked nipples and then his teeth, "Fuck!" he moaned. Sherlock chuckled and the vibration was sent to John's skin and he whimpered that he couldn't have more.

A growl ripped from his throat and chest as he pinned Sherlock to the pillows, his hands above his head and everything. He fell on top of him and they were brushing together again and Sherlock was whining in pleasure as John's tongue hit his nipples and his neck and hips.

John's skin on Sherlock's was driving him crazy, and he couldn't wait for more, "John," he begged. "Need… Nghf, Fuck! Need more! Please!" he could barely speak he was so desperate for John's touch.

"Never heard you beg before," he teased as his teeth tugged at the skin on Sherlock's thighs. Sherlock's fingers threaded through John's hair and he pulled in between moans. His head moved from side to side then rolled back as John's lips finally met Sherlock's shaft.

"Mnm," John's tongue flicked out across Sherlock's head and he whimpered in need and want. John's left hand cupped Sherlock's bollocks and the right ghosts over Sherlock's nipple and tugged slightly.

John took half of Sherlock into his mouth, knowing he couldn't go any further without gagging. But for Sherlock, this was just enough to have him shivering and through moans he once screamed when John's teeth brushed over the underside of Sherlock's member and John's hair tickled his stomach.

He was giggling like a school boy until John shoved his fingers over Sherlock's mouth, "Sh," he tempted. Sherlock simply took John's fingers in his mouth and licked them to the point that they were dripping with saliva.

John at first just stared, but then he used this to his advantage and shoved these fingers, one by one into Sherlock's entrance. His giggling stopped and he gasped in surprise. But when John's fingers found his prostate, he moaned and became a shivering mess.

He tried to grab anything on John to steady himself and instead of grabbing John's hips, he accidently took hold of John's member and when John shifted, Sherlock's fingers moved to the base of John's cock and he moaned as Sherlock's hips bucked again when John's fingers were shoved into his prostate abruptly.

Sherlock's legs were wrapped around John's hips and John took advantage of this, and rubbed himself on the entrance of Sherlock, teasing him. "John!" Sherlock scolded but still moaned.

"Sh," John's left hand took hold of Sherlock's waist and the other went digging in the drawer of the night stand and when Sherlock heard the cap pop open, he squirmed. John wet himself and slowly slipped inside of Sherlock, and the rest of the lubricant was used on Sherlock's member.

John paused to let Sherlock get used to the feel of something so strange, and his toes curled in pleasure when John started rolling his hips and he accidently pushed himself into Sherlock's sweet spot and Sherlock simply yelped, "John! There, and… harder!"

John's eyes widened as they caught Sherlock's. His pupils were blown wide but the colour remained and John could see him begging. He recovered and never breaking eye contact started thrusting faster and harder, driving himself right into Sherlock's prostate.

He screamed in pleasure as John's grip became harder and he was leaking profusely. John was pleased as he joined Sherlock in feeling too tight and release was met almost simultaneously. They were panting as John collapsed half on Sherlock and his lover whimpered as the last of the orgasm was fading.

"Why…" Sherlock struggled, "Why was that so much better than I could have ever imagined?" he asked his lover, who was steadying by the minute.

"I don't know. What did you imagine?" John asked.

"This," he rolled over onto John and he was getting hard again as he kissed him. His tongue left John's lips and travelled to John's neck and his shoulder. All the while Sherlock's hands were travelling to John's thighs.

He stroked John's skin lovingly and dug his fingernails into John's waist as he rolled completely on top of him and they were rubbing together again as John was getting a hard on again. "That didn't take long, "Sherlock teased as he traced his fingers over John's member and it rose to meet his fingertips.

"It's," he shivered and grabbed Sherlock arm, "it's you, Sherlock. How else am I supposed to react to someone so fucking sexy touching me?" he moaned when Sherlock's hand wrapped completely around John's shaft and he started pumping as slow as he possibly could.

His fingers then left John's member and traced over his bollocks before rubbing against the outside of John's entrance. He shivered as Sherlock reached for the lubricant John had thrown down on the pillows next to them.

His fingers were wet now and slipped inside John. He was surprised that with his first try he found John's prostate. John yelped and started panting as he begged, "Please, ah! Fucking fuck, Sherlock! Are you…" he was breathless, "Are… you sure… this is your first time…" he was almost passing out as Sherlock's finger scissored and he relaxed.

"Yes, but I learn very quickly, you should know this, John," he teased as his tongue flicked over John's nipple and he tugged with his teeth.

His lips scaled John's side to his waist and they landed on John's member. He took all of John in his mouth as if it wasn't a problem. Which it wasn't, it was actually fairly easy as he licked and bit and left a mark on the base of John's cock. This was his mark and he knew it wouldn't fade for at least a few weeks.

He smirked as his tongue reached John's slit and he stroked twice before it found John's tongue and made him taste everything. John could taste himself on Sherlock's lips and tongue and he was pleased as he moaned inside of a chuckle.

Sherlock's fingers dug around for a little while longer before pulling out and lathering himself in lubricant, "You really think you know what you're- ah! Oh! God!"John screamed so loud he was sure his mother could hear him, and he didn't care as Sherlock slipped inside John and he started rocking into his blond.

He screamed and yelped in pleasure as each thrust hit John's prostate which was already abused by Sherlock's fingertips. But it felt too good for John to complain about anything.

John's eyes fluttered closed as he was already leaking from how hard Sherlock was thrusting into him. But he liked this so much, "John," Sherlock purred as Sherlock's curls tickled John's neck and he dug his fingers into them as he tried to reply, but his voice caught and all that came out was a growl, "Look at me little soldier. Look me in the eyes," he begged.

John's eyes flew open as he saw Sherlock already staring at him with a huge sloppy grin across his lips. They never broke eye contact as Sherlock's widened in that feeling in his stomach again. John followed not long after and Sherlock released into his lover. But John wasn't done.

He was about to finish himself off, but Sherlock smacked his hand away, "I'll do it," he declared. And a good few strokes and John was a trembling mess in Sherlock's hands, quite literally.

He was panting again and Sherlock was happy as John slurred, "I'm sorry I doubted you," he sighed and ruffled Sherlock's hair, "Shower?"

Their vitals had returned to normal and they stumbled into the shower and the warm water lasted while John grabbed a washcloth and advanced on Sherlock. He cleaned himself and Sherlock from both of them. The smell of sweat had gone now and they were clean, except for their sandy hair.

John dipped shampoo into Sherlock's hair and he started to protest, but John shut him up, "Let me," he demanded. Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest as John's fingers probed his scalp, getting all the sane and whatnot out of Sherlock's hair.

Now it was John's turn, and Sherlock did the same, but it took less because his hair was straight and not as thick. Plus, he hadn't rolled in the sand as much as Sherlock had. John loved dominating Sherlock and he had been the one on top when they were laying in the warm sand.

All the soap and shampoo left them and they could tell that the hot water was becoming short. But they couldn't complain, because it had lasted for a good hour and a half.

When they jumped out, Sherlock went straight to their bags and dug out a pair of red pants, "Here," he tossed them to John, "they'd look sexy on my blond."

John laughed as he said, "You expect me to wear these?" he asked as he chuckled even more.

"Yes, because I'm wearing these ones," and around his finger were the black ones that had made John go *schwing*!

They slipped on pants and climbed under the blankets of the other bed, because the one they had used had cum and sweat all over it. And probably some drool, just saying…

John's head hit the pillow sideways and Sherlock wrapped his arms around his lover, "I love you," he purred into John's ear and his curls tickled John's temple as his cheek was kissed.

"I love you, too," he sighed as he faced his lover and planted a soft and long kiss on his lips. This one was full of love and burning passion that never faded as the kisses became lazy. But John didn't care, he was just so happy to finally have everything he could ever want.

The sound of their lips separating brought them back together again as they became too exhausted to continue. They fell asleep and Sherlock's hands gripped John harder, so that he could never leave… : )

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**The next chapter will be sadly, the last. But it was so full of feels and such... I think. I haven't written it yet, but when I do, it will be put on here. But for now, reviews? **


	18. Blood

Just One More Night of Flesh: Blood

John was standing at attention, remembering what Sherlock had done to him two nights ago. He wanted to reach for that spot, but he knew he couldn't. But as he blindly followed orders, he couldn't help but remember his lover's presence that night.

Sherlock had pressed his lover to his sheets and they had both gotten off by now, but Sherlock was determined to give John something that would make remember. So, do you know what he did? He bit into John's shoulder. His teeth, no doubt, hit John's flesh.

John ignored the pain as blood had trickled over his nipple. He was bleeding profusely and Sherlock knew this would leave a mark, "Remember me," he had demanded, and John looked to his shoulder.

He knew it would scar over, and it would be a very light scar, but still there, and if he ever met Sherlock again, he would find it and would remember that was waiting for him. He wanted to just get shot and go home.. but he knew that would disappoint his detective.

Yes, he was officially a detective now, a consulting detective, just as he wanted. As John marched he remembered everything all over again, and knew that if he ever forgot, there would be that little scar, on his shoulder, that would remind him of the man he loved more than anything… : )

* * *

Sherlock sat in the chair of his small but temporary flat. He switched on the telly, awaiting a call from someone to give him a case. And he wasn't disappointed as five minutes later there was a familiar voice begging him to help.

But as he grabbed a cab, he slowly but surely stored away John's memory. And when that was done, he put it away completely, forgot his feelings for now, and became the sociopath that everyone hated, yet needed.

He knew John would never come around again, and he was content with that. At least he had him while it lasted. _I will never forget you, John Watson. I love you… _: )

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**I know, it was short, but I had to end it, and I didn't feel like making people cry. Besides, I have another idea for another story, and with that one, the chapters will definitely be longer. But until then, reviews? Tell me how you liked it, or disliked... I will accept reviews of any and every kind! : ) Chao for now! **


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